


[Un]Matched Light

by Flowers_n_Dragons



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Cat Roach (The Witcher), Christmas, Christmas Decorations, Christmas Dinner, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Come Marking, Come Shot, Comedy, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feral Jaskier | Dandelion, Finger Sucking, First Dates, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Frolicking in the Snow, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Idiots in Love, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Neck Kissing, Nightmares, Oral Sex, Plot Twists, Plot twist I am not telling but this is much more than Christmas fluff, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Roommates, Simultaneous Orgasm, Snowball Fight, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Soft Jaskier | Dandelion, Song: Fair (The Amazing Devil), The Amazing Devil (Band) References, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:54:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 34,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27846374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flowers_n_Dragons/pseuds/Flowers_n_Dragons
Summary: Long-time best friends and flatmates, Geralt and Jaskier, pharmacist and singer/actor/musician, face the challenges of an Advent/Christmas-time  during a pandemic, along with their (re) emerging attraction to each other and other complications of a more mysterious nature.A classic Friends to lovers, modern AU set in an imaginary Central European city, lots of fluff and softness, mutual pining, angst and sexy romance between our bisexual guys, with a bit of humor.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 40
Kudos: 123





	1. Christmas Lights

**Author's Note:**

> After a long writing dry spell one look at the always insanely decorated house on the next street from our place, I was seriously inspired to make my own modern AU. Firstly I wanted a scene where they set up Christmas lights, with Geralt holding up Jaskier. Then I figured, let's have them stuck with each other for Advent/Christmas....and now I have *edit*34k words with their romance. Things got out of hand and I came to love this AU sooo much, hope you don't mind. :)   
> It's not near perfect, but hahh. I just kept adding new scenes.... And it needs an edit or two later.... It had to finish at some point. :) 
> 
> This is very fluffy and kinda self-indulgent *edit* with plot and relationship development and angst and smut and so much more lol.

"Okay! Today is the day Geralt, I am not waiting a second, no matter how you grumble on about it still being November!" an enthusiastic and determined-looking Jaskier, clad in white pajamas decorated with tiny cartoon cats, is heading towards the Grand Closet, as he often calls the double-door, floor-to-ceiling storage space, which is full of out-of-season clothes, rarely used household items, tools (mostly Geralt's), craft materials and half-done projects (that's all on Jaskier). He swishes right past a half-awake Geralt as he rambles on, not even sparing a glance on his groggy roommate in black boxers and T-shirt, sipping his morning coffee on a stool by the island counter, sleepy gold-speckled, dark chocolate eyes following his sprightly roommate warily. His casual attire fits the simple, almost spartan but modern style of the kitchen, the countertops black with fake marble patterns, the cabinets and drawers white.

Geralt expects nothing but trouble, with good reason. 

Jaskier just goes on as he finally reaches the closet, which is located right between the doors to their separate bedrooms that are face to face (it's always fun when they barge/stumble onto the small hallway at the same time....) opens it with flair and starts rummaging. "Plus next Sunday is the beginning of the Advent season so the decorations AND the lights are going up. If only I could find them.... Bloody...aaaargh!" several items hit the fake-wooden floorboards with tumultuous clatter, and judging by the more muffled thumping sounds, the brunette's head and/or other body parts. 

"You allright there, Jaskier?" 

"Just dandy. Don't mind me. Really. Just bloody brilliant. Oh! There they are!" some more commotion, and a triumphant Jaskier finally emerges, a huge cardboard box labeled "Xmas Deco" in his arms. He dumps it on the counter, sending a tiny cloud of dust into the air, grinning at his roommate expectantly. 

"I have work till noon. You know that. Josef needs help with the Saturday rush." 

"Oh I am perfectly aware. I will put up what I can alone and we can do the two-person things after lunch. I have to get some pine branches anyway. And new scented candles." 

"Just don't get those fake-fruit scented ones." Geralt winces. "They make me...." 

".... Sick to the stomach, I know. What kind of person would I be if I didn't, really. We have been roommates, or nowadays flatmates for what? Six years? Seven? " 

"And both of us are, somehow, still alive." Geralt adds and slips a mug of coffee perfectly prepared according to his friend's tastes (lots of milk, some honey and cinnamon sprinkled on top). Jaskier takes it with a nod of thanks. 

"If you are underhandedly referring to that one tortilla fiasco like four years ago then fuck you. I repeat, for the umpteenth time, I had everything under complete control." Jaskier gestures wildly as he rants indignantly, to Geralt's amusement. God he's got so much energy even before his coffee, he comments to himself. 

"Hmmmm." Geralt takes another sip, but his eyes are twinkling with mirth above the rim of the cup. 

"Aaanyway" Jaskier closes the topic with what he intends to be a deathly glare but only manages to make Geralt almost comment 'You look cute when angry'. But he of bloody course does not say anything out loud. "Is that cute assistant gonna be at work too?" He switches to another topic as he starts fixing his cereal. 

"You wanna swing by if he does?" he tries with a nonchalant reply. 

"Oh, nonono silly. For yourself. You need a...." 

" No, I don't. I already had one. It was...". Geralt tries to think of an expression that would suffice. Underwhelming? Lackluster? Missing heart and lacking in spirit? Just some quick fucks for fun? Oh that's it. " It was fun while it lasted. Did its job after her. End of story. "

" Okay, okay, suit yourself. All I am saying is he is pretty hot, what with those half-moon eyes and that smile. And those arms.... What did you say about his background? Is he half Chinese? 

" Japanese. His name is Taiki. And he is my colleague. I actually like working at this pharmacy so no, I really should not mix work and my disaster of a love life. " He finishes with a bitter smile. "But I appreciate your concern." He pats Jaskier on the shoulder ; the brunette's tactileness has brushed upon him over their years of friendship. "Well I have to get dressed and get going. Should I bring take-out or something else?" 

"No need. There are still leftovers from the chicken and plenty of other stuff in the fridge so we are good I think. Oh and before you go - your cat loves me. She slept with me again, curled up by my feet, to be exact. Roach is officially mine now." Jaskier grins and takes a sip from his coffee, a slight moan escaping his lips. Geralt pretends to not have heard it.

"The it's your turn to clean her litter." 

"Eehhh, it's fine. I deal with much worse at the pet shop anyways." 

"Still nothing from your agent?" 

"It's still the middle of the pandemic, Geralt. It doesn't look so good for us in the performing arts. Sadly." he sighs and drinks the last of his beverage. "Lucky my aunt offered me this part-time position at her shop. I'm pretty sure she would do without me. And by the way, thanks for... You know..." Jaskier is a bit embarrassed, looking at the kitchen floor, shifting his weight from one foot to another. He is not used to being in this situation but with no theater and no live shows with his band, money has been tight. 

"Don't mention it. It's really not a big deal. We're friends and I make more than enough to help you out rent-wise." 

"Just until this madness is over." He looks up, gazing straight at him, blue eyes that have always reminded Geralt of the sea glinting with an unusual sadness and uncertainty. He hates to see Jaskier suffer so. Makes his gut coil in a most unpleasant manner. 

"However long necessary. I have meant it. You helped me out enough before without even me asking. So... Just don't go overboard with the decorations, okay?" He smiles at his friend then leaves their kitchen, which is only separated from their small but cosy living room of a couch, a television set and many, many bookshelves. 

"When have I ever done such thing?" he yells after the other man. 

"All the time?" 

"Now that's just mean. I am finished talking to you. Gonna eat breakfast now. Have fun at work!" 

"See you later." 

~*~

Jaskier does not go overboard. Not because his hot friend/roommate whom he absolutely has no other feelings for rather than platonic love, a bond of friendship and companionship, if you will.... So yeah it's not because he said so. He just wants a feel of home and warmth, nothing flashy, not this year. It's bad enough that it is likely going to be the two of them for Advent and Christmas, no friends, no family... Not in person at least, thank God for the internet, he would certainly go mad without any means of communication.Therefore, he puts up a couple decorations on bookshelves and windowsills, while softly singing whatever comes to his mind, his own songs, Christmas carols, or pop songs even. He goes with mostly the natural ones, made of wood and the like, stylized Christmas trees, reindeer, crochet angels, and somehow, a tabby cat with a Santa hat and even a white wolf. The sparkly ones stay in the box. He sets out some candleholders for the tea lights and a glass vase for the pine branches. He also untangles the multicolor Christmas lights that will go on the balcony. This process, "aided" by a curious Roach sniffing about and attacking the bulbs whenever they jiggle, takes more than he will admit to later. He checks them by plugging it in; they work perfectly. What a relief. There is also one star with warm white LEDs that goes on a window. He fusses with it, but manages to fix it on the glass pane. It needs fresh batteries, but otherwise it is fine. The view from their couch and the little foldable table they use for their bigger shared meals will be perfectly festive.

He makes a quick round to the florist's to get the missing items. He opts for unscented tea lights and a fancier candle that purportedly smells like actual logs in a fireplace when lit and even crackles like them. Unlit, it conjures up images of campfires, wilderness and somehow, lute-playing when he sniffs at it. It's eerie and comforting simultaneously. He shudders bodily, then on an impulse, buys not one but three of the candles. 

Geralt gets home to Jaskier finishing his lunch on the couch, Roach practically melting on the radiator, all stretched out to absorb aaaaaalll the heat; Geralt swears he almost sees her black fur forming drops at her paws, cat-puddles dotting the floor beneath her. Having changed and washed his hands, he brings in a large paper bag and puts it down right next to his friend. 

"For you. By the way, the flat looks pretty festive. You did an amazing job again. And smells great too. It's like we had an actual fireplace", he says as he takes in the atmosphere, then plops down on Jaskier’s other side. 

"Glad you like it" Jaskier smiles, proud of his achievements and mostly because he likes to see and make Geralt happy, then his attention flutters to the package next to him. "Oh Geralt you should not have..." His actions betray his words as he enthusiastically opens the bag, taking out not one but two outdoor decorations, cubic-shaped "presents" made of wires and LEDs, a smaller and a larger one. "How did you...." eyes wide and incredulous, he gazes at Geralt who just smiles at him fondly.

"I saw you looking at them the other day we walked past that gift shop, so I thought this could be this year's addition to the collection."

"That was weeks ago.... You are precious." Jaskier can't resist kissing him on both his cheeks. The cold skin against his lips makes his nerves tingle. He decides to hug Geralt as well. His friend reciprocates, even relaxes in his arms, he is glad to note. They have come a long way with physical signs of affection, Jaskier earning Geralt's trust in very small increments over a long stretch of time, never pushing the other too much, just patiently teaching him how nice human touch can be. Geralt's background was good enough reason for all the work that was needed, but it payed off.

Jaskier likes it a little bit too much how his muscular body feels in his embrace, the way he is enveloped in those strong arms in turn, their chests flush against each other, his nose filled with his aftershave and the lingering scent of his shower gel mixed with the herbal and medicinal smells of the pharmacy still stuck in his hair, chamomile and lavender the most prominent of all. As he withdraws, maybe just a tad bit later than average, his lips are almost brushing against Geralt 's neck and it all culminates in certain body parts taking interest in the proceedings. Maybe far too much interest. He stands up, grabs his presents and heads toward the balcony door before he makes a complete fool of himself.

"So can you help me with the lights on the balcony? I want to set these up too, on the table maybe, so we can see them from inside." He grabs the lights and his presents; Geralt grabs their coats. 

"This year, I want them on that beam", having put down the present-decorations on the table, Jaskier points up to the structure that frames the shading roof above their balcony after they step outside into the grey afternoon, the sun looking like a pale, waxy full moon shrouded in clouds colored not unlike Geralt's hair. There is some wind coming from the little park right across the street, blowing straight into their faces. There is also music creeping up from another tenant, a shivering Jaskier notes. "All I want for Christmas..." He winces and almost groans at the overused song, deliberately NOT looking at his sweet and stunning flatmate. 

" And then it can come spiraling down this coloumn, maybe? " Geralt adds hesitantly. He looks perfectly stoic, as per usual. 

" Sounds excellent. I 'll just plug these in.... Oooh, I like them even more here. This way we can see them from the window too!" He fusses with the decorations to arrange them perfectly." Now, where is the ladder? " He looks around, in vain. There are some flower pots, the small wooden table with four matching chairs folded and stacked, some empty glasses waiting for being taken to the recycling station. He catches Roach 's huge yellow eyes peering at them with great interest. No ladder in sight, however. 

" We don't have one, Jaskier."

" You are kidding me. How do you change the light bulbs? "

" I use a chair", he shrugs. 

"Okay, well that does not sound safe, I don't want to fall from the fourth floor to the sidewalk thank you very much." He eyes the beam, then Geralt, deep in thought, head turned to the side. 

"Can you... Hoist me?"

"Excuse me?" 

"If you lean a bit against the railing, with your backside against it and then lift me up, so I stand on your thighs I can reach the beam comfortably, I think. I know I am not exactly thin, but...." 

Geralt is considering his proposal. The weight is not the issue here, although Jaskier has plenty of lean muscle on him and just a thin layer of fat over them that makes him look and feel ready for ravishing (what the fuck Geralt? He chides himself for the untoward sentiment, clearly a remnant from their previous intimate hug that befuddlingly, made him all warm and fuzzy inside). So yes, he is indeed not a frail little flower, but Geralt's physique is not only for show; he can securely hold his friend for probably long enough to put on those lights. But only if he makes absolutely sure he won't fall down. 

"Okay let's try it first against the wall." 

Jaskier bites his bottom lip to stop himself from making a sex joke. Geralt leans against the wall, knees slightly bent. Jaskier quickly kicks off his slippers, his feet instantly turning to icycles, and steps onto Geralt's leg, holding onto first his hands then his shoulders. Geralt holds him by his hips, his grip strong but not tight enough to bruise. Jaskier straightens, then reaches up and moves his upper body, pretending to fuss with the lights. There isn't even a slight tremor or imbalance. They smile at each other, satisfied with their acrobatic performance. 

"This works. Okay, rehearsal is over. Let me down and let's do this, my feet are freezing already." Jaskier hops down elegantly, gathers the lights and weaves them around his shoulders, then plugs them in. 

Geralt can't suppress a chuckle. "You look like a Christmas elf." 

"Hmm, I'd say a Tolkien-elf.... Or rather, a fairy at least. I am pretty enough for that." He says as he checks out his reflection in the window, the colorful lights illuminating his face in a rather ethereal fashion, his countenance turning into something supernatural.

Geralt silently agrees. He is fucking beautiful. 

"Allright, fairy, up before your toes fall off." 

Jaskier clambers up Geralt again. The bigger man puts a hand on his waist. 

"Can I touch you? I... Your clothes are sliding on top of each other so maybe I can get a better grip on you if..." 

Jaskier is not considered a good actor for nothing. He schools his features into a friendly smile even though he wants to moan a passionate yessss to all that Geralt's asking for and to the... Other vivid scenes his overactive imagination gifts/curses him with within milliseconds. "Sure. Keep me safe the way you see it fit." So Geralt goes ahead and snakes his hand under his clothes way too gently. Jaskier tries very hard to NOT concentrate too much on their proximity and the way Geralt's large and slightly callous fingers are caressing his skin and are dipping into his flesh under his layers of clothes. He can't suppress a shudder, though. 

"Cold?"

"Just... Ticklish. It's okay." 

Jaskier shuts up because he really wants to get the lights up and get off Geralt before he says or does something embarrassing. He fashions nice, drooping arches all along the beam from the string of lights, Geralt taking small sidesteps, gripping him even tighter when he moves along the length of the whole balcony so he doesn't have to climb on and off him all the time. He feels incredibly safe with him holding him, even though he is aware that he is the only one preventing him from careening off the balcony. But it's Geralt, he can't not trust him with his life in any case. 

When it's all done, Geralt eases him down, making him slide down his front, his hands brushing against his sides before leaving him shamefully bereft, arriving face to face. His feet are screaming for warmth yet he wills himself to stay in his friend's quasi-embrace for just a little longer, the lights forming a colorful halo from the ashen locks of Geralt, the white puffs of their breaths mingling, lips way too close... He desperately wants to NOT hear that stupid Mariah Carey song that is still blasting from some cursed neighbor's.

He shifts his weight to stand on his tiptoes and kisses Geralt.... 

... On the nose, just a playful peck, and rushes inside, exclaiming loudly, "God, my hands and toes an are FROZEN! I need a hot shower! Then tea!" He slows down once in the flat and turns back, only to see Geralt observing his handiwork, with his back to the brunette. Good. He is not sure he wants to face him and his possible negative reaction to his indiscretion. 

"How is it?" He yells back; he can already tell from the living room that it turned out pretty neat. 

"It's... perfect." Geralt stammers and follows Jaskier inside. He rubs on his nose absentmindedly and goes to the kitchen with a purring Roach in tow, to put the kettle on the stove. 


	2. Oranges

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cloves and oranges and licking of juices and just soooo much pining. There is not one brain cell between these cute men.

Thud. Clang. Rustle. Thud. A metallic twang. "Fuck.... It should be here" mutters a grumpy voice. 

"Jaskier, what in the seven hells are you doing?I was trying to read...." 

Geralt comes out of his room and wanders into the kitchen, a slightly annoyed but rather, curious expression on his face. 

"Cloves, Geralt. I know we have some. Where are they?" A frantic, kneeling Jaskier is elbows deep in a kitchen drawer, digging through all kinds of boxes, tins and packages, even throwing the more offending ones on the floor. 

Geralt steps up to his right, into his personal space, and looks into the drawer, assessing the situation. After a moment of hesitation, he lays a hand on his friend's shoulder. Surprised, Jaskier looks up, only to see Geralt's eyes light up as his free hand darts out for the little purple paper sachet in the corner, half covered by a tin of herrings and a plastic bag of... Something light brown and ground. Probably. 

"Here you go." He dangles the item right in front of Jaskier's face just to spite him even more. 

"This is not fair. I spend ten minutes going through our drawers twice, with no result whatsoever. You come over here and bamm. Find it instantly. Well, either way, thank you." He huffs and puffs, but eventually calms down a little and is already smiling as he snatches the bag of cloves from Geralt. 

"What do you need it for?" He inquires as helps put the scattered items back into their places. 

"I want to stick them in oranges. My aunt sent us a huge bag of them", he gestures toward the counter that indeed has a large bag sitting on it. "She is sending her love, by the way. She says she wants to make sure we got enough vitamins in us. Like she doesn't know you are a pharmacist, not to mention both of us are grown men, perfectly capable of getting our own healthy food... "

" She just wants to be nice. Tell her I miss her. I love hearing her stories about you and your cousins. The way she tells them is the best. I guess your family is well gifted with people who have a way with words, " he says smiling kindly at Jaskier. 

"Thanks for the compliment" he grins back, "I guess it is true. And I know she means well. It's just all that mother-henning is too much sometimes. Anyway, the oranges do look nice." Having put away everything, he opens the bag and takes out a piece of fruit and inhales the sweet and tart scent. "I don't remember when was the last time I had the time to sit down and eat-slash- decorate them in peace like we did when I was little." 

"We did that too in some luckier years" Geralt smiles bitterly as he gets a bowl from the upper cabinet, while Jaskier starts washing the fruits. "Somehow it always ended up with Lambert cutting something or someone with a knife." 

"No wonder you are good with bandages and plasters." He stops talking as he realizes Geralt wordlessly joining him. "Didn't you want to read though? I can do it by myself if you..." 

"I can continue later. Besides, I am hungry a little bit too. I know this night is supposed to be our 'alone-time', so if you prefer me leaving...." he hesitates. They both treasure the private nights they have set up so they don't get sick of the other. They are getting along great, nevertheless, they both have their own hobbies and interests. Not to mention that they do get irritated with each other at times since their personalities are quite different in certain aspects. They have learned to respect those differences, and during the partial lockdown, one way to express that is by leaving each other alone. 

"No!" Jaskier cuts him off, loud and eager. "I mean, I would love to spend time with you. We can reschedule 'alone-time' for tomorrow, would that work? Or did you have any plans? Besides reading." 

Geralt did plan to have some private fun afterwards, but he is definitely not comfortable sharing that just now. He can do it before sleep or tomorrow, he is not that desperate for it. He does crave the warmth of being with his best friend, however, although he would not say those words out loud. So he just answers "Nothing in particular."

"Allright. Let's eat some first, because I'm a bit peckish too, then we can stick some spices into a couple of these bad boys. Table?" 

"Sure. I'll open it and you bring the oranges and plates and whatnot."

"Splendid. Music?" 

"Those Christmas jazz albums you have would be nice to listen to. Just not too loud." Geralt pleads. Jaskier nods and turns on the little Bluetooth speaker in the living room and plays the requested songs on his phone. 

They quickly set up the table, working smoothly together without much talking. Jaskier hums along the music, much to Geralt's delight. He always seems content and in his true element when playing one of his instruments or singing, and it may be annoying when he goes overboard with it, his mellifluous tenor captivates him in ways he can't quite express verbally.

They sit down next to each other and eat one orange each, then begin studding the firm fragrant globes with the spice. "So is there a trick to it?" Geralt asks, turning the fruit in his hand, unable to decide how to begin. 

"There isn't really. Just don't push too hard or too deep. I guess that is a good rule of thumb." He winks and laughs at his own joke. Geralt just rolls his eyes but chuckles lightly nonetheless. 

"I have tried doing patterns and shapes before," Jaskier goes on, all serious now, "but I've found that just spreading the cloves evenly on the surface gives the most aesthetic result. Just start at the top and go crazy."

Geralt nods and hmm's. They work in amicable silence, the atmosphere definitely growing more and more Christmas-like as the smell of the spice and the fruit permeate the air. Roach appears, coming from Geralt's room, but once she sniffs out the citrus, she decides to hop up the radiator rather than one of her humans' lap. Geralt listens to the smooth melodies and Jaskier's chatting about past Christmas shenanigans in his family, and his heart feels light and warm. I am at home, it pulses and throbs in his ribcage. He looks out the window ; the lights are already on. His mind suddenly overflows with the memorable impressions of that Saturday afternoon; the warm, supple skin under his palms, the slight shifting of muscles underneath, the blunt pressure of two feet balancing on his thighs, the smell of Jaskier's cologne... And the kiss; a warm brush of lips on his cold nose. 

He breaks a piece of clove; the pointy spice prickles his skin after it skids down the orange's skin, luckily it doesn't stab him; still, he inhales sharply. 

"Are you okay? Be careful, they can cut you, the little bitches." 

"I'm fine." He sounds blunt and a bit too gruff. Jaskier, of course, notices. His eyes flash, but he refrains from commenting. 

He is decidedly not fine. His head is a complete mess. He is wanting something he can't and should not have. Fuck. 

There is no use getting all angry and upset about it, he decides. It has never done him any good. He takes a couple deep breaths and slowly shifts back into calmness. 

He is finished with his creation. He puts it gingerly in the bowl and grabs another fruit. He is still hungry so he decides to just peel and eat it. He bites hard into a plump slice. The juices burst out. His hand is drenched. Without much thought, Jaskier grabs his wrist, exclaims "I got it", and proceeds licking his digits clean, fast and efficient. 

Geralt's brain stops functioning. He just freezes. 

Jaskier senses his stiffness. He realizes what he has done. 

He turns deep red, lets go of Geralt's hand and flees to the bathroom. 

When he emerges, at least fifteen minutes later, Geralt softly asks:

"Do you want to talk about it?" 

"There is nothing to talk about. I was in a weird mood, thinking about my ex actually, and my wires got crossed. Please let's not make this more awkward.... Can you forgive my.... Indiscretion? Please? And not talk about it anymore? " He makes puppy eyes at Geralt, his misery washing off of him in waves. 

Fuck. He can't ever say no to his friend, especially when he looks at him like that. 

" You are forgiven. I won't bring it up again if you don't want me to. "

" Are we good? "

" Jaskier, you have done weirder things before. Of course we are." He inwardly adds, 'nothing this sexy.' 

"Thank you." He has visibly relaxed. He perks up suddenly, switching back to his cheery self (which Geralt knows is a ruse but he keeps his word and lets him be, do whatever he needs to calm down). "Do you want to watch a movie? I was told about this crime story at work...." 

"Okay." 

"I didn't even finish." 

"You would spoil it with your incessant blabbering." 

"That.... Is possible." He concedes.

They sit down and watch the movie, talking in the meantime as if nothing happened. They don't speak of the incident again. Yet neither of them can look at the bowl of oranges without blushing after this day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, what about that? Let me know if you like! I am unsure about the pacing and if it's too sappy....?  
> Comments please ;)


	3. Comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is no escaping the angst. The tension must go up, dear readers. But they are still cute. Oh and there is some background and some world/character building, yay! 
> 
> And there is Jaskier playing Shower Day by The Amazing Devil because of obvious reasons ❤️.
> 
> *sigh* Joey is a blessing. 
> 
> Enjoy.

"You did what?" Jaskier's aunt exclaims in a shrill voice. Her grey eyes behind her steel-rimmed glasses are bulging comically, her ample body jiggling as her upper body drops in shock. There aren't any customers in the pet shop and they have finished stacking the shelves and taken care of the animals, so they are having a break over some tea at the front counter. She noticed that something was off with Jaskier, and to her not-so-gentle nudging (meaning downright threats; she is nothing but intense) he decided to spill the beans about Geralt and the orange incident. The tea is now finished. So is most of the story. And Jaskier strongly feels that so are his hopes for things going back to normal. 

"I licked his hand clean. " Jaskier buries his mask-covered face in his hands." I know I know..." 

" And how did he react? By the looks of it, he didn't take you in his arms and kissed you thoroughly. Like he absolutely should have, mind you." 

" He froze. It's Geralt we are talking about, Elena."

"He didn't get angry? No lashing out?" 

"No. Just went completely rigid." Elena wiggles her eyebrows. "God, auntie, not that kind of..." he covers his face in his palms. "

" Sorry, dear. That was uncouth of me. I don't mean to make light of your pain. But consider this: he didn't stop you at least. And did not complain either. So what was his reaction? "

" That's the worst part. He was just so damn calm and nice about the whole thing. I escaped into the bathroom, panicking and trying to come up with something to explain myself. I told him I got my wires crossed because I was thinking about my ex... And he just accepted that. Forgave me instantly. Part of me wished he had a stronger reaction, that I affected him with what I did.... " He sighed heavily. 

" Were you? Thinking about an ex?" 

" I was, but more along the lines of how he would treat me, or rather use me for his pleasure first and foremost. How I had to take on this role of a.... A concubine. How he tried to distort my personality. But not Geralt, oh no, with him I can just be myself, do whatever I want. Even if he is not particularly happy about it, I never feel pressured to be someone else. Whenever I am with him I feel comfortable, safe, even cherished." His gaze turned dreamy. Elena's heart went out for him.

" Except that now, with him, it's all platonic and zero sexuality. The polar opposite." She said, voice turning soft." But you wish for it to be different, don't you? So your subconscious played this trick on you. Oh my little flower, I really think this time you should finally make a move on him." 

"Elena. I have told you I treasure our friendship way too much to..." 

"No." She cut him short sternly, her right index pointing at Jaskier. "You listen, my dear. Life is short. You blink twice and you get crow's feet around those pretty blue eyes of yours, then turn grey and fat like your aunt here. I have watched you go back to pining after Geralt whenever you broke up with your paramours. And I have seen you two together." Her wild gestures mellow out." You are practically a married couple already sans the sex... Which is one of the greatest benefits of being committed. It just gets better and better with time, you know. " she wiggles her eyebrows again and grins widely. 

"Yeah you have told me before..." He rolls his eyes. His aunt has been prone to oversharing much to his chagrin. The last thing he needs right now are particulars on her sex life. 

" Jaskier, in all seriousness, you owe yourself this. A chance at happiness. Show him how much you care for him. Just maybe don't rush it. He doesn't seem to reply well to sudden bursts of affection. And that's quite understandable. You have been platonic for so long, he may be confused by it, or think you just want sex. I suggest you consider wooing him the old-fashioned way."

"What do you mean? Court him?" He lifts his eyebrow. The idea sounds strange; he never had to be subtle before but what she has said makes some sense. And it may be less embarrassing for him to backtrack from smaller acts of love, too, if they are not received favorably. 

" Yes. It really isn't rocket science. He is a man of action anyway, isn't he? So shower him with acts that speak of your love. You are a gifted actor and know him much better than I do, I'm sure you will be able to figure out something. He is single now, isn't he? 

"Yes, he is." 

"Good. But darling," she touched his forearm and gave a squeeze with her bejeweled fingers. "I don't want to meddle. If you don't feel like pursuing him, and you'd rather stay friends like you have been, don't. A friendship like yours is a treasure on its own right. I know I can be pushy...." 

" You don't say!" He grinned back, patting the top of her hand. 

" I just want to see you happy. Whenever you are with Geralt, your eyes shine even brighter than usual and what is more, as your foolish romantic aunt sees it, his lips tend to curl into a tender smile when he looks at you and that is a telltale sign if I have ever seen one. Oh, welcome! How may I help you?" a customer comes in and Elena is already flitting around her, chattering enthusiastically about rodent feeds.

Jaskier grabs their mugs and while he is tidying up, all he can think about are the warm smiles of his friend. A glimmer of hope shivers in his heart, a refraction of waxy winter sun, nothing more, but at least it's there.

Jaskier gets home after his shift to an empty flat. He frowns and checks the calendar on the fridge. Indeed, he is supposed to be at home already. He is not that late, but still. He shoots him a quick text asking "Where r u?". The answer comes shortly, thankfully. He lets out a breath he does not remember holding in when he reads the reply: "Went for a walk. Will be home soon." 

However, he is not relieved for long. As he turns on the Christmas lights, the realization hits him why Geralt usually goes walking after his shift, or in normal conditions, to the gym. He is upset, sad and/or simply overwhelmed by emotions. He sighs deeply. He hates to see Geralt like that because he knows how hard it is for him to deal with strong negative emotions. He has certainly come a long way in that area, he no longer beats himself up for things he have no control over and he doesn't do binge drinking and that's a great relief. Still he will need Jaskier more than ever. The shivering spark of hope flares up a little; it is after all an opportunity to shower him with love. Not like he would not have it done anyways, his strong, seemingly innate desire to be a comfort for Geralt, as strange and befuddling it's been even for him, has always been something pure and unselfish. 

He considers running a bath for him but quickly discards the idea. As far as courting gestures go, it would be too much for a first, he decides. Having eaten a sandwich and changed into his grey sweatpants and a fitted teal V-neck T-shirt (who said he can't emphasize his good looks while comforting the object of his affections), he just settles in his room, working on a new song on his lute; for some reason he has the urge to pick it up more and more lately. Roach is following him around, purring contentedly, especially after getting plenty of scratches behind her ears and under her chin. She settles right next to him on his bed, 

Geralt does get home soon. He dashes out his room and envelops him in a warm hug the moment he steps across the threshold. Geralt almost sobs into his neck, breaths ragged, his grip tight, Jaskier's ribs protesting the treatment but he heeds it not. He has to be there for him, a little discomfort is nothing. "All the suffering, Jaskier.... All the deaths..." he whines as he clings to his friend, coat still on, his bag dropped on the floor by his feet. 

" Ssssh darling." He only ever uses this endearment when he is in this state. "You can cry. Let it go. It's okay to be upset." Jaskier coos and even pets his hair lightly. He feels cold as the December evening he walked in from under his touch. "What do you need?" 

"Just.... Hold me some more."

Jaskier does. They stand in the hallway with Geralt burying his face in his neck, and finally letting go of his tears, his sobs are shaking both of their forms in their violence. Jaskier holds him still, although he feels his shirt soak through with tears. He desperately wishes he could just lift the dark shadows of grief off his friend's heart and fill it to the brim with love and affection in its stead. In a way he is doing that, he muses, just in a less effective manner. He does find some pride in the fact that he can be Geralt's solace. It hasn't been easy, getting to that level of trust with the taciturn man. 

Gradually Geralt's breathing evens out, and his shaking stops. He inhales Jaskier's scent deeply, now mingled with the salty hints of his own tears. His eyes are closed, his friend's arms keep him tethered to his surroundings. What he does next, however, surprises even himself.

He kisses the hot pulse point on Jaskier's neck.

It's not a kiss of lust, rather, a feather - light kiss of thanks, over so quickly as if it never happened. 

But it most certainly did. 

It's Jaskier's turn to freeze up. Geralt doesn't notice or doesn't want to acknowledge it; neither the kiss nor his response. He mutters his thanks, takes off his outer layers, and slips into the bathroom to wash his hands and face. 

Jaskier is so tense he wants to howl.

He doesn't. He shakes the shock off himself like a dog shakes off water. He goes to the open bathroom door but doesn't enter, just leans against the white doorframe. It takes most of his acting skills to school his face and posture into those of a calm and supportive friend. 

"I take it Josef was out again." He prods gently to get Geralt talking before his brain replays that tender kiss a hundredth time in ten seconds. It really was nothing. Or at least nothing of consequence, he tells himself. Yet his skin tingles and it's not just because those lips touching it were cold. 

"He was. And there were so many patients who needed venting.... I can and will listen, as it is my job to help.... But you know how it's..." 

"You make all their problems and sorrows yours. You want to fight for them. Even when you can't". And I love you for it, he adds it only in his mind. 

"I do. And in a way I know that what I do, helps. But it's getting worse by the day, Jaskier. There are stories of nothing but loved ones dying or hospitalized. So many kind men and women, some of them not even that old, people we have known for years, who have been our patients and some almost friends, who would have had so many years ahead of them, now gone." While he talks, voice dripping with sadness, he finishes up in the bathroom and goes to the kitchen. He begins making some sandwiches, heaping the ingredients on the counter. Jaskier follows him and starts making some tea. They move together in the small kitchen so smoothly they never bump into each other. 

" I have no idea how Josef does it. No matter how many people he has to listen to, he has this incredible serenity in him, this warmth and this cheerfulness that never fades. Just like you; how is it that you both have this.... Permanent sunshine." 

Jaskier is very glad he is occupied with scooping the chamomile. Geralt rarely speaks of how high he regards him thus he grows flustered again. Those rare occasions have always made him all warm and fuzzy inside, but with as matters stand now, he almost bursts into song from those kind and poetic words. He snaps out of it though ; this evening should be about him listening to and comforting his friend. Geralt does not stop speaking indeed. "Fuck, I know it is taxing for him too, but he just puts down that burden at the end of the day like it's the most natural thing to do! And here I am, a right mess after one day of dealing with patients in person instead of working in the lab and the office." The bread slices now laden with various meats and vegetables, he wolfs down his meal. 

"Compartmentalizing has never been your strongest asset" Jaskier supplies. 

" Hmmm."

They sit down on the couch; Geralt is still defrosting, rubbing his legs. Roach senses the opportunity (and her human's discomfort) and jumps up to his lap. She purrs loud and happy as she is pampered by Geralt. Jaskier can't help but feel a bit jealous. Yes, he would very much enjoy having his hair combed by those fingers while his head is in his lap indeed.... He blinks away the titillating image from his mind fast. Damn his stupid libido, he chides himself. 

"How else can I help? Do you need to talk about your day in detail?" 

" I... Fuck. I.. . Don't know. I'd rather not right now. I just want to take a bath. I didn't actually dress for walking around this long in sub-zero weather..." he replies hesitantly, hands stroking the black furball in his lap that is slipping into slumber. 

"Tsk tsk. You always do that. You are not actually super-human, you know that? Although pretty close with all that... training. " What he really wanted to say was "gorgeous marble statue for a body" but decides on dialing back the flirtiness. 

"I'll survive, Mom." He puts enough stress on the last word so Jaskier stops his mother-henning without hurting his feelings. He actually is more than grateful for Jaskier's.... Well. For him. He sighs deeply and wills himself to relax, enjoying the calming effect of a sleeping cat in his lap and a friend sitting by his side.... Yet soon, Jaskier's proximity makes his mind wander back to that stupid kiss to his neck. Seemingly the other man isn't bothered much by it, he didn't even say a word, which is unnerving in a way, but he is also glad for it because he certainly isn't ready for a heart-to-heart on where they stand on the friends-to-lovers spectrum. Firstly because this day has been draining enough already, secondly because he is certain he is past the friendship end. He has no clue what to do about it, though. 

The kettle whistles; Jaskier jumps up to prepare their tea as he humms a tune that Geralt doesn't recognize. 

"Did you compose a new song?" 

Jaskier beams at Geralt. " Why thanks for noticing. Indeed I did. I still don't have much lyrics-wise but I have the tune more or less figured out." 

"Would you play it for me?" 

"If it helps you to cheer up and relax, sure."

"It would. You already know how your voice and music affects me." Jaskier gives him a shit-eating grin at that. He does indeed, and he takes an unhealthy amount of pride in having the power of practically lulling Geralt to sleep even on his worst days. "Go ahead, be smug about it. I don't care. You and your band are brilliant and I can't wrap my head around how you are not world famous yet." 

"Thanks, my greatest fan", he replies sardonically.

"You are most welcome. And I'm serious. After the restrictions are lifted, I see you guys going on world tour within a year." Geralt says this with such warmth and conviction Jaskier has to believe it. He gets up after gently transferring Roach from his lap to the seat. Picking up his mug of chamomile tea with a nod of thanks to his friend, he shuffles to the bathroom." I'll run the bath now. Would you play for me after I'm done?" 

"It would be my pleasure." They smile at each other warmly, maybe a bit longer than usual, before Geralt disappears behind the door. 

Geralt sinks into the water with a sigh of relief. He is enjoying the embrace of this element with closed eyes. The hot water, the tea he is sipping, and the bath salts he's shamelessly stolen from Jaskier's stock are doing their job wonderfully ; the heavy, grievous conversations of his workday and their black and sticky imprints on his heart fade away, a semblance of peace taking over. He tried his best today. It has to be enough. He hopes that he was enough.

He wishes he was more like his boss Josef and Jaskier, two shining suns really, spreading their warmth, kindness, their joie de vivre to all who are fortunate enough to be near them. He recollects his first meeting with Jaskier, how he was intrigued and irritated by him, how the bright - eyed brunette was so steadfast to become his friend. He was sure the slightly slutty drama major that somehow got into their little nerdy role-playing group, playing a bard for fuck's sake, no less, would quit as soon as he got laid. Or got bored.

Oh how wrong he was in everything. Except for the sluttiness. However Geralt himself has not been averse to having a good time with men or women or in one interesting night, one of each, so who was he to judge. The two of them, against all odds, struck up such a special friendship, such a deep understanding and appreciation for each other, he had no intention to lose that for a chance to hit that pert ass of his. 

During their first year of friendship, he did want to get into his pants, but due to the Universe's twisted sense of humor, whenever he was single, Jaskier wasn't. Then after the one night they spent talking until dawn under the stars, baring the deepest, most secret corners of their souls to each other, he decided he will treasure Jaskier and his friendship forever, keeping him from harm whatever may befall them, never wanting more. 

And yet here he was. 

Wanting more. 

Suddenly, a strumming of strings disrupts his musings. Shortly, Jaskier's humming joins in. He inserts a couple unsure words between hmmms and nanana's, his creativity ever flowing.... "you're the one who....." "... The one who asked me if I'm feeling okay...."... Just sitting at your shower... "sitting down......day"

The melody is poignant, bittersweet, full of emotion and longing. 

Jaskier plays it three times, humming and making up rhymes, weaving magic with words and sounds. 

Geralt's heart suddenly skips a beat. He is serenading him. 

Isn't he? 

Is it just his act of service for his distraught friend and he should not see things that are not there?

Whatever may be the case, he decides to enjoy being surrounded by music while bathing, a positively decadent experience. 

By the time he emerges, Jaskier has gone to his room. He steps up to his door. He is raising his hand to knock. Then decides against it. He just talks against the white plywood, deep and soft like molten chocolate. 

"Thank you, Jaskier. It was beautiful. I feel much better." 

There is no reply so he adds "Good night", before going to his room and collapsing on his bed, falling asleep seconds after he crawls under the covers. 

On his bed, Jaskier is scribbling in a notebook, the lyrics flowing from his fingertips, like the tears from his eyes. He swallows his sobs and wails; his fingers tremble with the force of his emotions, the tip of the pen plowing the paper as he is writing in large, swooping script,

" For Christ's sake just say SOMETHING!"


	4. Santa Claus Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some cuteness, lots of pining, innuendo, world building (the city is imaginary!) and a video call with Eskel and Lambert! Yay! Also I would like to thank the wonderful fanfic writers (eg Round-robin who is amazing) that write those two witchers as I only got their characterizations from them. I have the books now but make slow progress with them lol I hope I did them justice.  
> Anyways here is some Santa Claus Day fluff (which is December 6) :)

The first days of December go by fast, like the cold winds that howl on the streets of Visegrad. The dark asphalt rivers are now lined with throngs of twinkling lights, the heralds of hope, of love, of Christmas. The people, faces masked and often the shadows of their usual selves, are treading the sidewalks a little less morose, clinging desperately to the ideals and traditions, the extraordinary normalcy and solace of the annual end-of-year celebrations, even though this holiday season will certainly be different. Unfortunately, the pandemic situation does not seem to be improving, quite to the contrary. The increasing number of sick or dying people notwithstanding, the restrictions along with the seasonal darkness take their heavy toll both mentally and physically on everyone.

Geralt has long days in the pharmacy, doing overtime as two of the assistants have fallen ill as well. He and Jaskier have neither the energy nor the time to do much else after dinner than play with Roach and pass out on the couch watching Netflix or reading a book in companionable silence in the evenings, pretending everything is perfectly normal between them. Indeed, they too cling to the one constant that is still in their lives and their friendship is exactly that. The tension that has peaked with that bathroom door serenade has somewhat dissipated, though it has not completely vanished.

Jaskier pours his frustration into his music and poetry, which results in not one but three songs; he is not sure he wants those on their next album, so he doesn't share them with the other The Sublime Fae members just yet. As for his inevitable sexual frustration, he tries and fails spectacularly in not thinking about Geralt's lips on his neck and the taste and texture of his fingers in his mouth as his own grip brings him to his end embarrassingly quick each and every time.

Since Santa Claus Day is getting closer, he decides to get a special gift for Geralt this year; he buys him two bottles of his favorite red wine (thank Heavens for their being a wine country with exquisite, quality stuff that is surprisingly cheap to boot). He deserves all the pampering Jaskier, his best friend can provide him with. 

The evening before the holiday, as if he was still a child, he cleans his own shoes and boots, making sure Geralt sees him do it. 

"So you think you were a good boy and Santa will fill your boots with sweets?" Geralt smirks above his journal that he has been perusing, as if they didn't gift each other every year. Of course Jaskier started the tradition the first year they were roommates, but Geralt has grown fond of it; it is a simple way of showing care and appreciation, lacking the forced grandiosity of Christmas presents, and more often than not, he does prefer simple and straightforward.

"Oh I should hope so. With everything this year and me not complaining about it...." 

" You did complain, though. "

" Not as half as much as I would have liked to. It's called self-improvement, Geralt. And not getting on the nerves of your loved ones", he grins back cheekily. 

"I am sure Santa will reward you accordingly, then."

"What about you? How is he going to give you a present without your shiny shoes in the window for him to find?" He glares at him expectantly, arms folded in front of his chest. . 

Geralt sighs in defeat and puts down his reading. Usually they just leave the presents, some chocolate or other sweets, at the other's door, but apparently this year Jaskier is going all out, even if it was a little whimsical and silly to do as children do, cleaning his shoes and putting them in the window for "Santa Claus". 

Geralt decides to humor him. He cleans his own footwear thoroughly as well, so the windowsill is now decked with two pairs of leather boots, a grey and a black. 

"Much better." Jaskier says, satisfied, standing next to the larger man, and gently pats him on the arm, whispering "thank you". Geralt just smiles and whispers back, "Any time". He clears his throat and in his normal voice, says "I should go to bed now, Santa doesn't like kids staying up late to spy on him. He likes working in secret." After saying their good nights, Geralt retires to his room.

A little bit later Jaskier takes on the role of Santa, sneaking out his room, careful to not make any sound, putting the bottles inside the shiny, black leather boots. 

Geralt wakes up early, partly because he wants to go for a run, but also to take advantage of his friend being asleep. He shields his vision with his palm partly, so he doesn't spoil his own surprise and deposits his own gifts into their intended receptacle before daring the dark and cold dawn to get some exercise. 

When the entrance door clicks shut behind him after arriving home, face red and sweaty, endorphins coursing in his veins, he is greeted by Jaskier 's "Finally! I was going crazy and hungry!" The singer bursts out his room, still in his pajamas. "Let's see what Santa left for us, shall we? "

"And a good morning to you too. Let me wash up a bit, okay? And for fuck' s sake, grab a bite. You should not have starved yourself on my behalf." He chides him, half serious. 

"But I knew I would not be able to resist taking a peek once I was in the kitchen. This place is not that big, I would have definitely seen it." The brunette is still putting an effort into not looking towards the windows. "Are you taking a shower?" he asks as he sees Geralt disappear behind the bathroom door. 

"Later. I told you, go eat something while I sort myself out here a bit. Be with you in a minute. " 

"Fine", he concedes then gets a mango yogurt from the fridge and devours it promptly, eyes stuck to the beige tiles above the counter. He is licking his spoon clean absentmindedly when Geralt reappears - half-naked. Jaskier automatically turns his head towards his friend. He can't help but let his eyes roam the absolute feast they are presented with, his tongue twirling around the utensil, pushing it in and out between his lips, without even a thought to what he's doing. 

Geralt does not fare much better. He catches the lusty glint in Jaskier's ocean-blues, but his gaze is mostly fixated on that mouth doing.... things that are positively way too erotic to be done to a spoon. He averts it before he imagines his cock between those lips, that tongue licking his.... Fuck. He is imagining it already.

To distract himself, he puts on the black T-shirt he wore yesterday; it looks and smells clean enough. Jaskier is at the sink when his head pops out from the garment, gulping down a huge glass of water as if he has been the one out running. 

As per usual, they go back to acting like nothing happened. 

"Let's see what Santa brought us!" Jaskier claps his hand after putting down his glass and all but runs to the window. 

"Oh I have been very good!" he nearly shouts as he beholds his boots filled to the brim with marzipan pralines, shaped like small hearts, the colorful tinfoil wrappings glistening in the soft, cheerful glow of the Christmas lights. "They look absolutely decadent! Thank you!" He looks at Geralt with sparkly eyes, his whole face radiating pure joy. Geralt's insides warm up about ten degrees while he stutters out a "You're welcome". Jaskier keeps looking at him expectantly; he realizes that he is yet to look at his gift, so he does. 

"Oh. This is my favorite. And not one but two bottles; you shouldn't have...." It's his turn to beam at his friend while he pulls out the bottles and examines the label briefly. 

"No, I absolutely should have. The least I can do is get something nice for you. You deserve to be adequately..." He wants to say 'cherished' because this is what he wishes to do to the chocolate-eyed man whose smile just now got him.... Weak and wanting, his mind supplies suddenly and he files away the nice alliteration. He finishes the sentence with a more neutral "... Taken care of." 

"I appreciate it. But with your..."

"Oh shush. Not another word on what I or rather, Santa gets you for being good. But if you feel like it, I would not object to your sharing a glass or two of the stuff", he winks at Geralt. 

"Sure. Tonight?" 

"Well let me just check my busy social calendar.... Yes, tonight is completely free", he smiles wryly. 

Unable to resist the calling of the marzipan, he takes a piece of candy as he is talking, unwraps and eats it in small bites, savoring the sticky, sweet, creamy goodness melting on his tongue. He moans in pleasure. "Oh this is the good stuff. Exquisite. Want a piece?" 

He quickly unwraps another chocolate-covered praline as Geralt is still processing the sight and mostly the sounds his friend treated him with, making him think of not-so-friendly situations in which he'd rather have Jaskier make them. He has no time to snap out of his inadvertent fantasies; Jaskier puts a piece of sweet in his slightly agape mouth, his long, elegant fingers pushing it inside. Geralt sucks the marzipan on instinct, along with the tip of two fingers. 

Jaskier gasps. His eyes dart to the place where their bodies join. Oh God, he so wanted this to be innocent... And yet, as his fingertips are dipped into that hot, moist orifice, he has not one innocent thought left. 

Suddenly, Geralt growls and pretend-bites his fingers, all playful. He blushes but laughs as he snaps his hand away. "Oh careful! These fingers are for making music, don't you dare hurting them!" 

"Just kidding, don't you worry", he says after gulping down the sweet morsel. "Oh these are pretty good for being marzipan."Geralt turns his back to him and walks back to the kitchen, putting the bottles in the fridge." Speaking of music, you have that online practice with your band, right?" 

"Right. From 10 am. I was thinking maybe we could go for a walk later? I need the exercise, especially with all these sweets now, but I'd rather not go alone." He suggests while joining his friend in the kitchen , emptying the contents of his footwear to a glass bowl. "I would probably turn around and head back home after five minutes, bored and cold." 

" Yeah, you would. I'm down. After lunch?" Geralt tries for a nonchalant voice, but tension seeps into his words anyways. 

"Okay..." Jaskier notices his nerves and scans Geralt. He takes two deep breaths and braves himself to ask: "Geralt.... Do you want to talk about... it?" He gestures between the two of them as they now stand face to face. 

"What do you mean? There is nothing to talk about. Is there?" He says sternly, but not looking the other man in the eye until his question back, his intense gaze boring into Jaskier's skull. 

"I suppose there isn't, then." Jaskier utters, voice trembling. He does not know how to feel, relieved or upset from such a reply. Maybe it was all wishful thinking on his part? He was seeing signs that were not even there? Or Geralt just needs more time to come clear? Or maybe he is (or rather, both of them are) just too horny, without a partner for so long, that's why they are acting this way? He is positively bewildered, so he just retreats quickly to his room without further ado to calm down and prepare for the much-awaited session with his band. 

Geralt and Jaskier get back from their long walk in the afternoon with positively frozen limbs. 

"So.... Cold.... Why did we have to climb up that last hill? Fuck!" 

"You were the one who insisted on taking a look at that decked out house on the summit! I... Shit! Don't think I can feel my toes anymore... " 

They raid the bathroom after taking off their coats and such. Four hands battle for the relieving embrace of the stream of hot water gushing out the tap. 

Then Geralt's phone rings. 

He takes it out of his jeans' pocket, glances at the screen displaying the name Eskel and immediately curses,

" Shit I forgot we were supposed to video call my brothers."

"Since when is it 'we' ? You pick up. It's your family. I need at least two more minutes here." Jaskier whines, not taking a step from the sink. 

"Fine" he sneers back, dries his hand fast and picks up with rigid fingers. 

"Hello. Can I call you back in a sec? Jaskier and I are... busy." 

It's a normal voice call but he practically sees Eskel's eyebrows climb up his forehead. 

"Uuuh all right? Talk to you soon. Should we keep it a voice call?" 

'Why would we? I haven't seen you for... Well it seems like forever. "

" Okay then. Catch you soon."

"Bye." 

Geralt frowns. What was that about? He shrugs and goes into the living room. Jaskier joins him shortly, still rubbing his hands. 

"I swear the very marrow in my bones has frozen! Hand me the blanket, please!" He drops down on the couch, crossing his legs on the seat. He uses both his hands to restart the circulation in his thighs-turned-icycles,looking at his friend expectantly. 

"No way I let you hog the blanket again. Either we share or you are not getting any." Geralt is clearly using his being closer to the soft burgundy-colored microplush piece of fabric to his advantage. He grabs it and joins Jaskier. He sets his phone on the tiny white plywood coffee table then covers both of them from the waist down. 

"Oooh much better... Can I...." Jaskier wiggles a bit, snuggling into the warm cocoon.

"Sure, go ahead. " Geralt pats his lap. 

"But I didn't even..." Jaskier utters. He is already stretching out his lower limbs.

"You always end up putting your feet in my lap and insist I give you a massage when cold." Geralt gently draws the other's feet, dressed in mismatched, colorfully striped socks, to his lap, keeping it covered.

"That is not truuuuhhooohoo oh yesss." Jaskier rolls his eyes in pure bliss, unable to contain how great Geralt's strong touch feels. "Oh okay. You are officially the champion of footrubs." Geralt just shoots him an "I told you so" grin and carries on with his ministrations. 

Roach emerges from the direction of their rooms, and clearly indicates with some pawing and meows that she does not want to be left out from snuggling under a soft blanket. Jaskier lets her crawl under the covers and she proceeds to curl up between his now slightly parted thighs, purring happily; a win-win situation as her body heat gradually seeps into Jaskier's skin and muscles as well. 

The phone chimes again. Geralt answers the call and sets the gadget against a book to keep it upright. Eskel's and Lambert's ruggedly handsome but worn-out faces appear on screen, whose friendly smiles turn into triumphant grins.

"Congratulations!" 

" Fucking finally!" 

They speak simultaneously. 

Geralt and Jaskier have no idea what is going on

"Excuse us?" The singer raises his eyebrows while Geralt just shoots them a bewildered look. 

"You finally figured out your shit." Lambert elaborates. 

"At least you covered your boner. That is very considerate of you, songbird." Eskel adds. 

Aforementioned looks down to his lap. Roach has indeed raised her head a little bit, creating a sizable bump just above his crotch. Blushing furiously, he dramatically removes the fabric, revealing the absolute innocent nature of their situation. 

"Oh." 

"So you are not...." 

"No. We have just got home from a long walk so we are huddled together, the three of us, for warmth, as you do." 

"And you...." 

"I am still the best friend of your brother, you buffoons. And in any case, why would we be fucking while talking to the two of you?" 

"Sorry, Jaskier." 

"Yeah sorry man.... So, how are you two pining id... ouch!" A well-aimed jab to Lambert's side shuts him up. "I mean how are you holding up? You still work at your aunt's? Is she doing well?" 

The four of them catch up with each other amicably, without further teasing. Lambert and Eskel, Geralt's brothers in all but blood, regale them with some fun and with some sordid stories from their work; as EMTs, the pandemic hits them hard in every sense. After a while, Jaskier gets up. 

" I have to talk to my friend soon, so I leave the three of you to talk without my intrusive presence. Be safe and take care!"

"Oh you are practically family, Jaskier. Do we look phased by your presence?" Eskel grins. "But do what you gotta do. Talk to you later, songbird." 

"Yeah it was good to see you. Take care of Geralt for us, will you?" 

"Will do. Bye." With a final grin and a wave of his hand, he leaves for his room. 

"So Geralt. Be honest." Lambert waits a little bit to make sure he is not overheard, then cuts to the chase. "Is there absolutely nothing going on between you two? You haven't fucked, or kissed or anything... 

" Because we would love for you to get it together and confess your love for each other after all these years of mutual fucking pining." Eskel adds. 

"I have not been pining."

" Yeah and the sky is green." 

"There is nothing. Or... Well..." Geralt decides to lower his voice and confess to his brothers about the latest moments between him and his friend. Eskel and Lambert keep quiet and only exchange meaningful looks. 

"... And that's it. I don't know what to do. Or even if I want to... " Geralt's voice is weak, even hesitant. He can't even look into the camera. 

"Oh hush. You both are ridiculous. You must make a move on Jaskier ASAP. Or I will. Mmmh, bet he gives great head with that talented pretty mouth of his....." 

"Don't you fucking dare to even think about it" the ashen-haired man sneers, menacing. 

"Relax! I was joking. Look at you, already so protective. Back me up here, bro!" 

"Geralt. You two are perfect for each other. I know you feel it inside that it's true. And by the looks of it, he is not averse to go past friendship with you. So please try and give yourself a chance. You are adults, you should not act like shy teenage boys. Speak your mind. Even if for some reason you won't work out, which I highly doubt, your bond will survive for sure. Just stop with the nonsense. Go get him, Ger! "

" And don't even talk to us before you gave it an honest try."

"Yeah. I wanna see you two grinning stupidly and holding hands the next time. Understood? 

" I think that's a good point to finish this call at. See you soon, Geralt! Remember, don't call until you made your move!! "

" See you.... " Geralt sighs. 

They hang up. 

Fucking hell. Geralt sighs, defeated. However his mind is already supplying him with ideas about the confession.

A couple hours later, the pair is sitting on the couch again, two glasses of wine already waiting for them to be drunk. They are both clad in their pajamas, black on Geralt, white with a penguin motif on Jaskier, latter already hogging the blanket. Geralt has Roach purring in his lap. 

"So... Want to watch something or just talk?" Geralt opens hesitantly. He really isn't in the mood for a chat that could lead to dangerous territory, but he knows Jaskier's disposition. The singer loves communicating in any way, shape or form, talking included. He does not mind it as long as it's meaningful conversation, and if he is not pressured too much to be eloquent. However, now he is very afraid to spill something he is not prepared to share just yet. 

"OH definitely movie! I was actually thinking doing a drinking game. It's been ages since I have done one ; we can do it lightly to not get piss-poor drunk halfway through." 

"Did you have anything specific in mind?" 

"Well it's been a while since we watched The Lord of the Rings. Obviously we should start with Fellowship; then maybe next weekend we can watch The Two Towers? 

"Why did I know you would suggest that?" Geralt grins. "And I'm in. Just keep the rules light for the game, like you said. No chugging down a whole glass and such." 

They search for a drinking game for the film in the net, tweak it a little bit and leave the rules on the phone screen to check on if necessary. They proceed to get tipsy then giggly-drunk while enjoying the movie and each other's company, chatting lightheartedly. Jaskier, who is never shy of physical contact, cuddles up against Geralt, resting his head on his shoulder not even halfway through the picture. Then he snuggles to him some more, ending up sleeping in his friend's arms, drooling a little on his pajama-covered chest long before the end of the film, Roach indignantly hopping off and leaving the room. Geralt's eyelids are getting heavier by the second. He feels content and warm and sooo tired.... And the beautiful man sleeping on him peacefully feels and smells wonderful, of wine and petrichor with just a hint of musk... He wants to be enveloped in this smell forever, he thinks last before his eyes close and he slips into a deep slumber himself.


	5. Firsts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First snow. First kiss. Finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The moment we have been waiting for :) I have been planning this scene for weeks and even as I was writing it down finally, I had the hardest time keeping these lovebirds apart so I could squeeze in some dialogue that is crucial for the story. You can guess why in the comments ;) also you may count/list all the TAD references, cause I can't resist peppering my fics with them.
> 
> Enjoy lovelies! :)

The sleek tendrils of dream sliver into the shadows, consciousness floats back, reluctant to brave the dawn. His bed, warm and solid, rising up and down, gently rocking him. 

Wait. That is not right.

Jaskier blinks himself awake.

His eyes are met with black cotton and a patch of skin with curly hair on the periphery. His nose is filled with a sensual, woody, masculine fragrance, certainly not his own yet familiar.

Geralt.

He closes his eyes again. Finally conscious of the position of his own arms, he wills them to gently embrace the man under him, who is still asleep. He burrows his face into the hard pillows that are his pectorals, filling his lungs again and again with that wonderful smell, relishing their intimacy. He has never felt this content and at home in.... Forever, probably. 

Just before drifting off again, a small voice starts nagging in his mind: he is not his to embrace like this, like a lover does... His heart sinks then twists with guilt.

He is taking advantage. 

He slowly peels himself off of his friend, planting a ghost of a kiss on his forehead, while he yearns to do so much more.... To seal those perfect lips with his own, to kiss him awake gently, then to slip his tongue into that mouth, light the man on fire with it, give him no choice but to surrender to his passion... 

He blinks the fantasy away and with tremendous effort, crawls out of the blanket and off his gorgeous pillow. He stares longingly for a couple seconds more, admiring his one love (oh stupid, sappy heart, what a choice of words... ) in the dim, pastel lights emitted by the string of Christmas lights outside. He turns his head to stare into those colorful LEDs; the nonexistent imprints of two large hands tingle on his waist.

And the he shrieks shortly, then silences himself by putting both his hands in front of his now widely smiling mouth. 

"Geralt! Wake up!" he shakes Geralt's shoulder forcefully. 

"Mmmmh Jask....nooo... let me sleep...." 

"Geralt, it's snowing!" he adds and shakes him again, enthusiasm radiating from his words and gestures alike. 

The white-haired man blinks himself awake. There is indeed a flurry of flakes outside, painted with light. He takes a look at Jaskier, whose eyes are sparkling with excitement, lips pouty and with an oh-so-inviting shine, hair a tousled mess from the night, and suddenly he knows what he wants to do. 

"The Mountain. Now."

Jaskier gasps. "Yes!" 

They put on their warmest clothes, as fast as possible, Geralt checking the clock to see if they have enough time before work (they do), while Jaskier is grabbing a handful of sweets from the counter along with a bottle of water. They set out in great haste, Jaskier urging Geralt, resulting in him leaving his scarf and hat behind. They head to their favorite park that is etched onto a hillside with a lush and varied flora, its pathways meandering up and over steep limestone ravines, widening on natural terraces that serve as excellent outlooks to the city itself and the mountain ridges surrounding Visegrad.

They are both strangely attracted to one particular spot that has an amazing vista of the majestic hills, with boulders acting as perfect seats; the wind usually hits that place quite ferociously so it's not very popular with other visitors. They call it The Mountain, and have spent many hours here, talking of life, love, and anything on their hearts at the moment. One particular winter night surprised them with the first snow of the season there (obviously they visited because Jaskier was getting over his most recent breakup, the pair of them getting drunk on some vile, acidic white "wine") and ever since that magical experience (partly because of the snow but mostly, because they actually managed to make it down the hill in their inebriated condition without incident) they made it a priority to visit The Mountain in the winter too, preferably when it's snowing. 

And this dawn is unparalleled for such a visit. 

The pair hurries across almost empty streets, making asphalt-colored, shiny footprints in pure, crystalline-white snow as their coats gather snowflakes from the air to decorate their simple black and burgundy fabrics (former on Geralt, latter on Jaskier). The sky and the buildings are sombre grey, with warm golden circles of light, the same color as Jaskier's heart, he's musing as he is giddily trying to keep up with Geralt's powerful strides. They turn a couple corners before the more athletic man realizes he is lagging behind. He waits for him, smiling and whispering a soft "sorry". He breathes back an "it's okay", just as quiet, both reluctant to make harsh sounds in a muted world of wonders while they send wispy clouds of condensation into the air with their words, which merge into one a moment later. 

They still have a couple blocks to go, but now they walk side by side. Suddenly, black gloved fingers ghost against each other, on the brink of perception. Then they brush, slide, caress.... Finally, they are woven together. Their hearts race, and only partly because of the physical exertion. Somehow, neither is brave enough to look the other in the eye, or utter even a syllable.

They reach the entrance of the park; the spell of the first snow is even stronger here, interlaced with the magic of nature. They climb the steep, slippery pathway, guided by the rusty, red railings. They arrive at their favorite spot, hand in hand. Jaskier's whole body vibrates with anticipation of.... What exactly? Geralt said nothing about his intentions but something tells him that they are not here for the exercise or just to look at the snowy peaks. 

A rude, electric trill from a phone breaks the silence. 

"Fuck. I have to see it. Might be from work." Geralt curses and glances to the side to look at his friend. Jaskier smiles weakly, and replies "Sure", and attempts to step away, giving him some privacy. However, Geralt gives his hand a squeeze and stops him from getting even one centimeter farther. His heart skips a beat. He squeezes back, then emboldened, tentatively slips his arm through his friend's. There is no objection so he decides to rest his head on his shoulder as well.

Geralt sighs and smiles at him, relaxing into the touch. The way they slot into each other is so eerily sublime that he considers putting his phone back and just kiss his beautiful friend, claiming him as his lover once and for all. However, his sense of duty won't let him. He unlocks the screen and reads the text. 

"Fuck! No!" 

Geralt is shocked then in seconds, seething. He tears himself away from Jaskier, curses and kicks a couple innocent stones in his rage, growling angrily. Then he stops and goes back to him. He proceeds to embrace him hard, then he breaks down, sobbing against his shoulder. 

Jaskier holds him close until he settles down. 

"What happened?" the singer asks softly. 

"Another patient.... Wife texted me... Told her when he got admitted to the hospital to keep me informed... Fuck... He was laughing and jesting with Josef just two weeks ago... " The grieving man talks against his shoulder. 

"I'm so sorry..." Jaskier pats his back then draws circles on it, soothing. 

The wind attacks them fiercely; Geralt shivers bodily.

" Geralt!" Jaskier takes a step back and looks at him, scolding: "Goodness, you have neither a hat nor a scarf...Here, let me." 

Before Geralt could make even a grunt of protest, he wraps his own indigo woolen scarf around the other's neck. 

"There. Just pull the back loop up, like a hood." 

"Thanks" Geralt says with a weak smile and wipes the last of his tears from his face then does as told. Jaskier steps back and decides to go and lean on the red rails, staring into the distance as the stone would be too cold a seat now. The other man joins him, directing his own gaze to the horizon as well. There is not much to see, the view of the mountains is obscured by the heavy snowfall. There is no sound either, except for the soft landing of fluffy clusters of white on their counterparts on the ground. 

Jaskier glances at Geralt; he still seems very aggravated. He puts his left palm softly on top of his right hand to offer some comfort. After a couple minutes of silence, he whispers to his friend, "You did your best. You always do. There's nothing else you could have done."

"Hmmm."

"I wish we could get away from it all. Head to the coast. Or wherever. Just away from it all." The words roll out his lips almost automatically; he has the distinct feeling he had said them before, in a dream perhaps? His mind tries to grasp the ephemeral snippet of memory, which is more like a vision, but it vanishes all too soon. 

" Sun and sea and sand... That does sound nice." 

"Only if you would be there." He ventures there, pulse picking up.

"What are you saying, Jaskier?" Geralt looks at him from the side, and he can't decide if the question had a hint of hope woven into it. 

He has another moment of deja vu, supplying him with the reply, 

"I 'm just uh...trying to work out what pleases me. I guess what I have learned during this godawful pandemic that life is too short and you should do what pleases you while you can." 

"Hmmm." Another pause. Suddenly, Geralt shifts; he turns toward him and takes hold of the hand that has rested on top of his, bringing it between their bodies. His gaze is intense but filled with warmth, and Jaskier has to gasp as the other man leans even closer, his breath sending wonderful shivers down his spine. 

"Do.... Do I please you?" 

Jaskier's right inadvertently flies up to Geralt's face. He beckons him closer with the smallest flutter of his arm and fingers. There is not much more than a pocket of air separating their lips. Then he whispers, 

"Immensely." 

And even that is vanished as cold lips, like petals of snow, greet each other with gentle reverence. The moment seems both heavy and fragile. They are both overcome with a sense that what they just did, what they finally succumbed to, has been brewing for ages. Jaskier parts his lips just a moment before Geralt ; their lips embrace, and soon, they are lost in each other, kissing deeply and passionately, nothing but the first snow and the wild mountains witnessing their love finally unfolding its wings and taking to flight. 

Indeed Jaskier feels as if they are hanging in the air, afloat with happiness. His lungs are soon screaming for oxygen so he parts from his lover, and Geralt chases after his lips, licking them playfully even as both of them are gasping heavily. 

"Tell me.... Is this why you brought me here?" Jaskier asks, beaming.

Geralt thinks he has never held anything so beautiful, so precious in his arms.

"Mmmh yes."

Another tiny lick is placed on the brunette's lips.

"Good. Kiss me some more, then."

So Geralt does.

Then soon, the alarm of Geralt's phone goes off. 

"We should get going." 

"Mmmh we do." 

And... they don't.


	6. Wagers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Jaskier are head over heels but of course the change in the nature of their relationship brings its own challenges.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the kissing madness. It's so sweet I can't even 😂 and also Josef my dear OC makes an appearance yay!

The walk down the mountain and back to the city, specifically to Geralt's workplace, the pharmacy, which is located in a neo-classical building's ground floor downtown, has taken almost forever. The reason behind this was not as much the distance or the heavy snow but rather that Jaskier's lips have gravitated to Geralt's every two minutes, which was all swell as Geralt's have done the same thing with the very same frequency. They have arrived at the back entrance, just minutes before opening time; Jaskier is kissing his lover good-bye in the alley while pushing some sweets (the marzipan he got from Geralt) from his pocket into his hand; "You have to eat something, darling...." 

"Your kisses are nourishment enough," he whispers back. "God, how could I go without them for so long?" He muses and Jaskier preens. 

In contradiction, there is a low grumble from Geralt's belly. 

"Your stomach says otherwise. Plus I really must goommh... Geralt... Your shift start like in half a minute and you are still dressed... " he tries to protest, but his words severely lack conviction as he keeps nibbling on Geralt's lower lip, arms still woven around his neck. 

"You wanna come in and help me change?" 

Jaskier is about to reply something witty and saucy about "coming", but the door flies open and a disgruntled Josef peaks his masked head out. The instant he sees the two preoccupied lovebirds, the lean, caramel-skinned pharmacist's frowning gaze turns into his habitual jovial expression, which is discernible even under the protective equipment. 

"Taiki! Could you come to the back door for a second?" He yells back to his assistant. The handsome Japanese man, who is wearing a mask and a white coat like Josef, appears right behind him shortly. 

"Sure, Josef, what's the.... Oh. There goes my twenty Euros... Geralt, couldn't you have waited with this until Christmas?" He asks, groaning but with twinkling eyes as he swipes his lush back hair back from his brow. Said white-haired man finally disengages from his lover. He exhales exasperatedly while he shoots a very disapproving glance at the grinning Josef.

"Did you make a bet on my love life? Wait, don't answer. Sure you did. You are incorrigible, boss." 

"And you have earned me about a hundred Euros, thus your tardiness this morning is excused. Jaskier, always a pleasure to see you." He nods to him in greeting. 

"The pleasure is mine, Josef." He smiles back, half mischievous, half embarrassed. 

"I am afraid I have to usher your boyfriend inside in a second, but let me explain. The bet was of course not about you two becoming lovers because that would have been quite pointless. Rather, it was about how long would it take for you two to figure out your feelings." 

"I put my money on your getting together on or after Christmas Eve. Josef bet on before Christmas." Taiki elaborates. "I should say I am sorry for our impoliteness, but we have been waiting for this for a long long time, listening to Geralt going on and on about his "best friend" (he's making air quotes on those words), with the stupidest grin on his face. Seriously, how could you be so oblivious, guys? Anyway, glad that it's finally sorted out. I wish you all the best. Now excuse us, but we have to open. Come on boss, let them say goodbye properly." He winks at the pair and disappears behind the door. 

"Two minutes. And Jaskier, do not forget to send me an invite when you do a live with your band online."

"Will do. And sorry for making him late." 

"You are forgiven. Just this once. Have a great day!" He grins and gets back to the pharmacy. 

"Can you beliemmmph...." Jaskier turns to his lover as he starts ranting indignantly but is silenced with another kiss. 

"Two minutes." Geralt rasps as he continues devouring his partner, his hands snaking under his winter coat and then under his vest, setting his skin on fire with his fingertips.

"Let's make the most of it..." Jaskier answers, already whimpering. He takes his own advice; he finishes their make-out session with grabbing Geralt's mane to clear a path for his lover's tongue, which shortly makes a wet trail from the base of his neck to his ears, nibbling on his earlobe before he parts with him - a gargantuan effort in itself. 

"See you at home, darling." Jaskier finds immense delight in Geralt's lust-dazed, ravished countenance. He can't help claiming those reddened, saliva-slick cupid's bows once more. 

"Can't wait, sunshine." Geralt whispers darkly, making Jaskier's loins twitch before he steps back. 

"Keep calling me that and you will be fired for not showing up", he says but is already on his way. They wave and grin at each other until Jaskier blows a last kiss and turns the corner. 

Lips still zinging and flushed red from kissing all morning, Jaskier gets home and puts his now abundant energy and his fluttering heart's rhythm into his composition, but only after pampering Roach with food, pets and scratches behind her ears. 

Part of him is still incredulous but mostly, he is over the moon, his brain replaying the magical moments of the dawn, the contrast of cold snow and heated, wet kisses, the way he was held, strongly and gently and with carefulness, the way his soul wailed from it all. As his giddiness settles, he starts thinking about the two of them and more specifically, about what should come next. His cock literally aches to get Geralt naked and moaning under or above him, like last Tuesday. Preferably at least half the night, every night, for the foreseeable future. He bites his lips as some delightful images flood his mind. Nevertheless, his heart and some long-lost coherent string of thought flares up in warning. This is his best friend, his freaking muse, his every waking thought, and the main character of most of his dreams, not a fling, a dating-app hookup or a post-concert fuck.

He has to do this the right way.

He must absolutely not mess this up. 

As he is cooking some lunch, Geralt's favorite, because he wants to do something nice for his boyfriend, he is already making a mental list of what he wants to discuss. He shoots him a text during his lover's lunch break: "Talk about us @dinner? Made us some Bolognese. Can't wait to see your gorgeous face."

Geralt replies with a "Sure sounds great. Thank you, Sunshine. Miss u too." 

After lunch, he leaves for the pet store. His aunt takes the news just as expected: kissing and hugging him senseless. She loves the whole story, and makes Jaskier spill every little detail before she sends him home half an hour early so he can prepare for the evening. Of course she winks at him conspiratorially. He groans but is grateful for the extra time, so he refrains from whining. 

At their flat, he sets up the living room for their date; lights the appropriate two candles on the Advent wreath (he made it himself this year and it turned out... Fine. The candles won't light anything on fire at least, probably), along with the fancy candle that smells like a campfire. He suddenly has a vision of himself sitting by a fire, making some stew in a kettle, wearing an absolutely ridiculous but intricate and colorful outfit. There is an other figure approaching him and his face lights up but when real-world Jaskier tries to concentrate on that form, the vision disappears altogether. 

He shakes his head. This must have been some remnant of a dream. He decides not to dwell on it more.

Geralt arrives while the pasta is already being re-heated. Jaskier runs up to and kisses him hard, all teeth and tongue, the way he didn't dare publicly (he wasn't shy about it, but knew that Geralt would have been), chasing the December chill out of Geralt's bones effectively. He is taken aback a little but gets with the program real fast. He whirls Jaskier around to get his back plastered against the door. On impact, the smaller man is left breathless. He has no coherent thought left as his wrists are quickly pinned above his head and his neck is assaulted by his lover, who runs his nose, lips and even the edge of his teeth down the elegant column, sniffing, kissing and scraping vehemently.

Jaskier buries his long fingers in his soft, white locks and pulls, earning a delighted groan and a hissed "Yesss", just before the brown-eyed man dives in and sucks on the delicate skin almost at the pectorals so that the evidence of his desire can be covered up easily. Sheer desire pulls his spine taut; he arches into the bulk of his solid, relentless cage. They slot into each other perfectly. 

"I've always wanted to mark you up... Seven hells Jaskier, your neck... No, _you_ are too sexy for your own good," Geralt admits in a whisper against the other man's mouth as their bodies collide. Jaskier just replies with an abrupt, cheeky lick on Geralt's lips, which open again in clear invitation. They kiss again, tongues waltzing passionately, voices joining in a duet of mewls. 

Jaskier stops abruptly, eyes popping open in horror and shouts, "Pasta! Left it on the stove!" 

He races back to the kitchen. Fortunately the food has not burned as the heat was set to low. 

Geralt shakes his head to clear up the fog of lust. He takes off his winter gear then steps into the bathroom. He comes out smelling of soap and ready to face Jaskier with a more level head. He was contemplating taking a cold shower, but settled with cooling his face, neck and wrists at the sink. He walks into the living room, and is surprised by the candles; he grins to himself: he should not be. It's Jaskier. He is someone to go all out for their first dinner date, even if it has to be at home. 

"Sit down, please. I'll be with you in a sec." He waves in the direction of the table which has been set up, complete with tablecloth he did not even know they owned, cutlery and wine glasses neatly arranged, the Advent wreath on one side. 

"Jaskier, you shouldn't have.... I would never expect you to spend your precious time cooking for me just because you are home more." Geralt glares at the singer as he is sitting down.

"Oh, I know. But I wanted to do something nice for you. Now shut up and enjoy. "

He serves their dinner, which they start to eat in silence as both of them are famished. 

"Mmmh this was amazing. Thank you. You said you wanted to talk, Sunshine. " Geralt starts the conversation when they are just about to finish up the last bites, sensing that Jaskier is quite nervous. 

" I do. I.... Shit. This is hard and I guess I should state the obvious first. Geralt, darling, you are very important to me. I have been happy and grateful to call you my best friend for so many years. This is something that has been quite.... Prohibitive in pursuing you as a potential lover. I love the relationship we have built together. You are my friend, my family, my home. And I do not want to lose it. I don't want to lose you."

Jaskier's words wrap Geralt's soul in a soft and warm blanket. He smiles and gently reaches out for his friend's hand, food forgotten. He looks him in the eye, getting lost in his flame-adorned ocean blues. " I feel the same, Sunshine. About you. So... We.. Is... Are you having second thoughts about being some... even more?" He has trouble finding the best expressions to convey his fearful question. He has no interest in remaining just friends now that he had a literal taste of Jaskier as a lover. His heart shivers at the very thought, its seams threatening to come undone. 

" No, nonono. God no." Jaskier replies with confidence and conviction, putting his other hand on top of Geralt's. "I'm most definitely not. I very much want to be your boyfriend. Is... Would you like that?" 

"Very." The word comes out shaky with the immense relief that has just washed over Geralt. His heart stops shaking and fills up with light. "I want nothing else than to become your boyfriend, Jaskier." He wipes his mouth with a napkin. "Should we move to the couch?" 

"Want some wine first?" Jaskier asks while they are already moving towards the large, grey piece of furniture.

"No, I'm good. You want some for your nerves?" 

"No, I'd rather you hug me. It works wonders every time. " He is facing his boyfriend, fidgeting with his hands. 

"Oh come here, my sweet, anxious boyfriend. It's still me. Still us." Geralt invites him with open arms and the singer practically collides into him. They are enjoying the intimacy, to be able to get lost in each other's tight embrace knowing their hearts are in synch, and the time of pining is over.

"Better, sunshine?" 

"Mmmh yes. I love the nickname, have I told you that already?" They disentangle their limbs and sit down. 

"You might have mentioned it before... And you are that." Geralt looks into Jaskier's eyes, serious but gentle as the warm spring wind. His eyes dart to the pink lips of his boyfriend and before he knows it they are kissing again, langorous and sweet, with tiny movements of lips and tongues that twirl and tantalize, promising plenty more pleasures to come. 

To Geralt's astonishment, Jaskier pulls back and scoots away from him just the moment he is really beginning to enjoy their make-out session, ready to sneak his hand under his boyfriend's olive-green V-neck. 

"As wonderful as this is, darling, I have one more thing for us to discuss." 

"Go ahead. And you can call me dear heart too, you know. I feel like that's on the tip of your tongue any time you address me. I have always been fond of that endearment, whether in your songs or just in speech. " 

"Oh dear heart; I can certainly do that. Gladly in fact. So.... what I wished to discuss is... I would like us to take this slow, the physical parts of our new relationship. I mean kissing is fine. And love bites are a big yes too. But I would like us to.... not go any further just yet. If that would be all right. I don't want to...." he is getting flustered as he talks, his words fleeing from him as he desperately tries explaining himself." Geralt, you mean so much more to me than any previous lover I have had."

"Yes, you have told me."

"And I really want this to work. I want to prove to you and to myself that this, that we are as boyfriends true and genuine. I did not say that you please me immensely merely out of convenience or carnal need. I wish to be....your partner, truly. I don't want to mess this up, not with you. Am I making sense?"

"You are, sunshine. I would prefer to not mess it up either." He takes Jaskier's hand and kisses each and every knuckle. "Slow is good. But aside from doing innocent couple things...." Geralt lets go of the other's hand. He leans toward him, his orbs harboring a fire that has nothing to do with the candles. His boyfriend's blue gaze ignites from it. He squirms a bit and lies back, letting the larger man frame his body completely. Suddenly it dawns on him that not having sex may not have been such a great idea after all. He heard rumors about Geralt being a tease, and the way this evening is progressing indicates that they were a hundred percent true. 

"What about learning about how to make each other come apart? Would you like that? 

Jaskier's brain knows he should say no. But sadly, it isn't the one in charge." Yes that would be nice... "

Geralt gives him a short kiss on his lips then smirks. His voice drops even lower. "Give me your rules. Surely you have thought about them", and without further ado, starts kissing down his neck, hands running down his sides still over his T-shirt. 

Fuck, he knows him too well. 

"We should not be having any sex, no oral, no hand jobs either, until Christmas. 

"Day or Eve?"

" Eve. Obviously. "

" Hmm. So lots of wanking alone this Advent season. " 

" Sadly. But it will be worth it."Geralt sits up, putting his weight on his knees and is about to take off his own shirt when Jaskier grabs at its hem. 

" Na-aaaah. No stripping. Any petting is strictly done fully clothed. But we can.... "he lets go of the garment and snakes his hand under it, feeling up the ridiculously firm abs of his boyfriend. 

" You are very generous, sunshine. So hands under clothes is okay? "

"Just the arms and torso." He wills his hand to part from Geralt's skin. He wiggles out from under him before he comes untouched in his trousers from a little petting. His partner lets him, smiling. They sit next to each other again. 

" Fair enough. Is that all? "

" Yes, that would be all. And promise we still do the things we have been doing as friends. That's the whole point of this self-inflicted abstinence."

"Sure, sunshine", and he catches his lips again with his own for a couple seconds. Suddenly an idea comes to him. "Do you want to make it more interesting?"

"What do you have in mind, dear heart?" 

"Have a wager. If any of us break the rules, or initiates sex before Christmas Eve, the offender will do all chores for two weeks." 

"Oooh, a deterrent. I like that. A bit of motivation to not succumb to your charms, you tease", he grins. His expression is mirrored promptly by the ashen-haired man. 

"So we agree?" 

"Yes. Let's shake hands."

So they do. Of course it evolves into another five minutes of making out. 

"Geralt?" the singer pulls away to gaze into his boyfriend's gold-speckled chocolate orbs, with an occasional glance at his shiny, swollen lips. 

"Yes, Jaskier?" 

"I'm... Oh God it's so trite and cheesy, but I'm so happy for us. It's like my soul has been yearning for having you as a lover for not years but decades or even centuries. Like we were.... Meant to be? Like it's something more than just a next logical step. I.... I'm sorry I am not making any sense... "

" No. You make perfect sense. I couldn't have put it into words like you.... I guess it's normal when you have waited with a first kiss for years. "

" Oh yes, that may be it. But I can't wait that long for the next", he suggests with a wink. 

"Then just one more before bed... I am beat...." Geralt sighs then kisses him, long and sweet. Somehow it becomes an hour-long goodnight kiss. 

Neither of them complain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me you get the hints :D


	7. Of Loopholes and Snowball-fights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we switch gears with some smutty smut (note the change in rating) and have some fun in the snow,with an accidental chase scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Christmas is behind us IRL but we are back to the third weekend of Advent with the soft boys who are very horny and crazy for each other. I hope the change of rating will not turn you away (although I think in this thirsty fandom I am safe lol) I will have some saucy scenes later too but overall I strive to keep the mood /the softness.  
> Also the snowball fight; I have been planning it for so long! It's fun and shows a different aspect of their relationship. Also a different side of partial lockdown. Fck Cvd19.
> 
> May I also say Thank You! For the 20k+ hits and 1450+ kudos and 13 subscribers! I am astonished and humbled and inspired by all of you lovelies! ❤️
> 
> Keep safe and have fun reading ;)

The next week went by in a blur. A blur made of work, and of hour-long goodnight-kisses and of course some friendly conversation. But mostly of the former; which meant that by Saturday, Jaskier was sorely missing Geralt and by the amount and the content of texts he sent even during work (it turned out to be a slow day, which has not happened for a long while), the feeling was mutual.

Jaskier is sitting on the couch, trying to compose a new song, plucking the strings half-heartedly as all he really wants to do is cuddle up with Geralt and shower him with kisses and caresses. "Well, now I am lying to myself, Roach, what about that?" He addresses the black cat, who is in the process of melting on the radiator. She blinks slowly, eyelids sleep-heavy but refrains from gracing him with a comment. "What I actually want is fuck him senseless, make him moan and possibly scream my name and why the fuck am I telling this to you, a neutered cat? Anyway, we made this stupid bet and sure, don't look at me like that", he points at her, "I know it was my idea in the first place to wait with sex but I forgot about how he is a tease, because when I was told that info by that girlfriend of his, I could care less about my friend's bedroom habits.

And I apparently also forgot about my own dick not having had any since... oh God that was when Jake dumped me, the bloody wanker..." he puts his guitar aside and buries his face in his palms, rubbing at his nose" and that happened in July... Okay, I did have that one-nighter with whatshername.... God we were both so drunk." He shakes his head and leans back on the couch." Oh no, I do remember her amazing tits and how dripping wet she was all right, but names... Oh yeah, Nora. Or Dora. One of those. No disrespect." At this point he is so worked up, he is gesticulating with abandon. 

"Even that was in what? September? So anyway I am talking to you, a cat, about how much I ache to shag your owner, I mean human servant, and I can't, because integrity and long years of friendship and respect. We should first navigate our changing relationship, figure out who we are as boyfriends, not just friends, you know? Of course you don't, you are a cat who is half asleep on a fucking radiator. Meanwhile I am a pathetic, slutty and horny human male, in his prime, with a super attractive boyfriend who has a savior complex and impeccable work ethics, so I don't even get to be with him physically, even though we live together." 

He is restless so gets up and starts walking in a circle, his arms not taking a moment's rest. "And when we are together, all we can do is tease and oh boy does he ever tease. Look at this, Roach. This is the kind of treatment I am subject to", he orates, pulling down the neckline of his black and white, cat-patterned V-neck shirt to reveal four purple-yellow blotches some with teeth marks. "See what he does to my skin? Marks me his, thoroughly, while pulling my hair just so, with those stupid long fingers of his... I almost came in my pants from getting this one here," he points at the largest bruise, "fucking hell and its fire, he is good, Roach, too good. And he gets so smug about it too. Okay I may have reciprocated his favors, licking and nipping at his ear very very lasciviously until all he could do was shake and moan and growl. Oh lascivious is just a fancy word for sexy; don't judge me, I like all kinds of words. Where was I? Oh yes. He's got the most sensitive ears I have ever seen. That fact must be.... " he is interrupted by the chime of his phone. He opens the message and his eyes widen. He throws the gadget dramatically on the couch.

" That's it. I'm done. Now he's sending me sexy pictures. I bet he got Taiki to take these. They are getting along very well these days, and his hobby is photography, if I remember correctly. Because I am a very attentive boyfriend, you see." He takes the phone into his hand again to show an utterly nonchalant Roach. "See? This is what I can't have under me until Christmas. Or over. Whatever. Nowhere, is my point." The cat sniffs at the device but does not seem impressed by the images of Geralt, leaning against a wall, his white coat open, showing just a delicious and tasteful portion of chest and abs, his dark jeans pulled down impossibly low on his hips, hands in front pockets, hair a sexy mess, lips shiny and pouting.... The whole composition, with the lights and shadows falling just right, is very artsy and speaks of a keen-eyed photographer. Jaskier takes another long look. He zoomes in on the details. 

Molten lava pours into his loins. 

He bits into his lower lip. 

His erection is throbbing painfully, tenting his pants almost ridiculously. 

This needs to be taken care of like last Tuesday. 

He throws the phone on the couch without flair, jumps to the bathroom to wash his hands, grab some tissues along with some lube and leaps back to the living room. He pulls down his pants together with his boxer briefs and gets comfortable on the couch, just after he closes the curtains and shoves the blanket on the seat. 

No time to waste. He tugs at his hard member tentatively; just a gentle touch makes himself hiss. He takes a peek at the cat - fortunately, she's asleep. 

He gets down to business, taking off his shirt and squirting a bit of lube on his hands. He takes one last look at the picture of Geralt - oh heavens, he's got a sex-god for a boyfriend, he thinks before he closes his eyes.

Geralt appears right in front of him, with his coat and jeans open. He smells faintly of pine and chamomile as he leans over, eyes alight with sparks of desire. "You are so fucking beautiful, sunshine...." fantasy-Geralt whispers into his ear as he leans over, then he's kissing him, hard and dirty while straddling him, trapping his legs between his knees. He gets rid of his coat fast and proceeds to ravage his chest, clawing red stripes on his pectorals before pinching and worrying his nipple with force, causing pain-edged pleasure to bolt across his nerves from the tiny, hardened nub to his groin. Jaskier, unfortunately, has to do these all by himself in actuality, but the fog of lust is already over his mind and he needs to be touched so bad he doesn't care it's his own hands making a playground of his chest. 

His cock jumps and bounces; he progresses his fantasy; Geralt grabs the straining member with his right, his left stays on his nipple. His hot grip is just perfect as he drawls "let me help you with this.... Mmmmhh, so hard for me sunshine.... Wanna see how hard I am for you?" Oh does he ever.... Fantasy-Geralt seems to be telepathic as he just smirks and gets off the lap of his lover, only to place his crotch at eye level, to Jaskier's right, his hand never leaving his lover's cock (Jaskier has no idea how he manages this anatomically (kneeling maybe?) but fuck if he cares of anything but the imaginary hand's ministrations and the imaginary bulge right in his face). Jaskier makes a quick job of his fly, and his mouth can't wait a moment more; he attaches himself to the cotton-clad erection like a magnet, making wet patches on the fabric. Fantasy-Geralt chuckles and moans. "Oh so eager to have it in your mouth, sunshine, aren't you? Patience, love." 

Oh fuck he has none of that, and it's his fantasy, so he has no right to tease. Jaskier says "No", then takes the rock-hard, thick and long and downright gorgeous penis (it is HIS fantasy ; he has got no actual clue how Geralt's dick looks like yet) out of its confines and into his mouth (in reality he greedily pumps not one or two, but three digits between his lips, bathing them in saliva with his tongue) , sucking on it as he stares at Geralt's face to see his reaction. It is absolutely delightful, of course; his eyes roll to the back of his head, and he draws a very sharp breath. 

There's a rustle of cloth. 

And another hiss. 

Something is not right. These sounded way too real. Jaskier's eyes pop open and he freezes, dick in one hand, his mouth filled with the other. 

Real, actual, corporeal Geralt is leaning against the kitchen counter, staring at him. 

"Don't stop on my account." 

And the nerve of him, he keeps the eye contact as he pulls his own cock out of his jeans, already at half-mast and fuck it's even prettier than fantasy-Geralts none-too-modest penis, the thought zips through Jaskier's fried brain, which apparently is not as shocked as to not be able to appreciate and compare male genitalia. 

"Tell me sunshine, what were you thinking about? Was it... this in your pretty mouth?" he glances at his cock which is filling up quickly as he works on it slowly and deliberately, up and down, up and down.... Jaskier's mesmerized ; he can't take his eyes off it. 

" Yes", he croaks and wow, he was not sure he has not lost the ability of speech. 

"What were you doing with it?" 

Oh fuck they are really doing this. His cock gives a twitch; well someone is liking how things are turning out for sure... He swallows hard and resumes his wanking.

"I sucked on it, making your eyes roll back in your head." 

"Mmmh yeah I can see that.... What else? Tell me your fantasies, Jaskier, " he demands. Jaskier, however, or rather his last piece of sanity and decency, puts up some opposition. 

"Fuck, Geralt, we're not supposed to...." 

"Am I touching you? Or you me?" he asks, eyes sparkling with mischief. 

"No, but...." Geralt never stops working his shaft and Jaskier gulps again when he sees a drop of precum appear on the head that gets quickly smeared on the skin, making it shine. 

"is it a hand job, blow job or actual fucking?" 

" Technically, this is mutual masturbation and it is not in the rules at all, as none of us thought of it at the time....A loophole, if you will." 

"Precisely... So please, enough of the technicalities. If you wish me to honor the spirit of our bet, I can go to my bedroom to finish," he says, hesitant, and slows down his self-caressing, "but what I would really want, sunshine, is for you to tell me your fantasy that makes you this .... Goodness, you have no idea how fucking sexy you look right now, all wrecked and needy..." his gaze is scorching, predatory and everything Jaskier imagined it would be during sex; it makes him even more aroused. Fuck everything else, he needs those eyes on him. 

"Yeah, no don't go, please. I'll tell you... You were working me with your hands as I was putting you in my mouth but now..." he closes his eyes to conjure up the previous scene. 

He smirks as an idea comes to his mind. This will make Geralt lose his fucking mind for sure (and he is certain because it makes him feel the same). 

" Mmmh... You get enough of my mouth. You want more. Something tighter. You push me on all fours, my ass up in the air, on display for you and you start massaging my cheeks..." 

Geralt groans and closes his eyes, lost in his head. Thus he does not notice Jaskier actually shifting position. He does notice the lack of words." What next, sunshine?... hhhhhhhaaaannnhhh Jaskier fuck! " he shouts, then bits his lips and squeezes the base of his penis lest he comes from the sight alone. 

"Mmmh thought you might like it", pants Jaskier as he is actually presenting his ass to his lover, with an arching back and shoulders pressed to the couch, one hand making dimples in the meat of one cheek, the other jerking himself off between parted thighs so anything and everything is visible for Geralt. 

"Jaskier.... You are a fucking menace... I know that it's much and you can say no... But... Can I come on you, sunshine?" His voice is almost a whimper, dripping with need. 

"Yessss, come on my ass..." he puts some more lube on his hands, lifting his left to his opening, teasing his rim with two digits. His whole body starts swaying as if he was really plowed from behind. 

"I'm afraid it won't be just your pert little behind I will paint white... More like your whole back...." Geralt adds as he bridges the small distance between them with a couple steps. He starts canting his hips at the rhythm of Jaskier's movements; his lust spirals to the heavens. 

" Is this how fast you would fuck me, darling? " Jaskier manages to taunt him between pants and moans. 

"Mmmh no. I'd go faster and harder." 

"Like this?" He picks up the speed while his slick fingers dip into his hole, making both of them moan loud. For minutes, they make no coherent sound; there is nothing but noises of sex filling the room. Geralt watches, dazed, as Jaskier's greedy opening swallows more and more of his fingers. When he gets up to three digits and moaning so loud he is sure the whole building can hear them, he loses it. 

" Hnnnghhhhh Jaskier... The things you do to me... I can't... I'm gonna...." Geralt moans and makes a sound between a shout and a groan. 

Jaskier hears the flapping of skin on skin turn into a frenzy, then within moments, feels the hot streaks of viscous fluid landing on his back as Geralt shouts out his pleasure, making a mighty mess from shoulder blade to the curve of his ass and that is the final sensation that sets off the fuse to his explosive orgasm. He comes violently, with thighs shaking, his cock drenching the blanket with a huge pool of semen. He milks himself to the point of getting oversensitised, muttering filth and sweet nothings to himself and/or to Geralt, who has collapsed at his feet and is trying to regain his senses on his knees, head propped on the arm of the couch. 

Slowly, he comes down his high and realizes his dreadful situation. 

"Oh fuck.... Geralt I don't think I can move one centimeter without risking getting our spunk everywhere ....so, help?" 

"Hmmm. Sure." He tucks himself back in his jeans and cleans his hand with a tissue before grabbing the roll of paper towel in the kitchen. 

"Sorry.... It's.... been a while." he smiles, embarrassed, when he gets back to Jaskier. 

"Oh don't you say sorry, it was crazy hot, loved it, all of it. It's just...." 

" Yeah, the mess. I got you, don't worry. "

He proceeds to clean up the evidence of their activities. Jaskier puts on his shirt and boxers and sits down again. He pulls the now standing Geralt down for a kiss. And another. They end up giggling while making out leisurely on the couch, none of them keen on talking about their mind-blowing non-sex. 

"Was this your goal, Jaskier, with that display you made for my welcome?" Geralt eventually asks when they have stopped kissing for a while and the darkness crept into the room.

"What? I was shocked you got home while I was...." 

"Didn't you get my text?" 

"All I saw was the picture. I saw no letter on screen. Can you blame me,though?" He grins almost maniacally. "What did it say?" 

"Something along the lines of you will get your hands on this in 5 minutes." 

"So you thought I figured out a loophole,when it was actually you." 

"Mmmh." 

"You know, for your naughtiness, you ought to be punished." 

"What do you have in mind?" 

"Up. We agreed we will keep doing friend things and I shall have you punished on the battlefield. We're going snowball-fighting in the park."

Geralt smiles at the theatrics but is quite happy at the prospect ; it is one of their traditional snow - activities, one in which he usually turns out as the winner, too. "Don't you want to take a shower first?" 

"Kinda, but I will just get sweaty again anyway. Plus I have a hunch you don't mind me going around with your mark on my skin." 

"Am I that transparent?" He asks, mock-wounded. 

Jaskier just laughs. Geralt shakes his head and thinks 'he will be the end of me.' 

They do go down to the park after a quick shower and snacks. It is right across the street, wedged between residential buildings. Jaskier and Geralt are dressed properly for a serious snowball fight (it has never been anything but between the two of them) in a bright green and a navy blue overall respectively, with matching gloves and other winter accessories. They make forts out of snow and prepare plenty ammunition, then they battle viciously, first sending projectiles to the other's fort, but aside from a couple balls landing on their heads, it's of no use, so they rush out, first Jaskier, zigzagging in the snow to evade and confuse; he gets pretty close to the enemy fort and bombards the inside with the icy projectiles when a mightily angered and snow - battered warrior emerges from the fort and begins to seriously attack Jaskier from close range. 

It hurts. 

Jaskier decides to make a run for it after the fifth hard ball landing on his body. He leaps towards a thicket that has some evergreen bushes too, hoping to find some shelter there. Geralt, however, is in hot pursuit. Jaskier has no chance of respite, he must keep running. He tries with a feeble counterattack, but he is already low on ammunition. He makes for his fort, but not directly ; he does not want Geralt to figure out his goal as he may very well intercept him. It all culminates in a chase across the whole park (it is not too large, about the size of a football field), which ends with Geralt tackling Jaskier just outside the latter's fort. 

"Yield!" 

"Never!" 

"Then witness the cruelty of the horrific warrior and his fearsome weapon : his tickling fingers" his hand is raised then it swoops down like a vulture, attacking Jaskier's sides. 

"Oh no not the.... aaahahahahha, haaahhh- hahahaha! Stoooop oh mighty warrior, have mercy!" Both of them are rolling in the snow, laughing like kids. 

Suddenly there is a red and blue light appearing at the street. The siren is also turned on, but cut off promptly. 

Geralt and Jaskier look at each other, then at their watches. 8:03 pm. 

" We missed curfew! " Jaskier states the obvious. He curses the stupid pandemic and its stupid rules. And they had such a great time, doing friend things finally, not couple stuff, for a change! Just like old times! 

" Did someone call the police on us? "

" It might be just a patrol...." 

"They don't use the signals when patrolling, you know that!" 

"Quick, inside the fort!" 

They hide and just in time: although there are plenty street lights in the park, the police turn on flashlights and two columns of light sweep the park. 

"Okay, here's the plan." Jaskier whispers to Geralt. "You attack them with those snow-balls, to confuse them and as they figure out what happened, we make a run for it." 

"Jaskier, what the fuck? That's a terrible plan! We could get actual jail time for pulling a stunt like that!" 

"Right. Sorry. I was panicking and that was the first thing that came to mind." 

"Was that in a movie? Oh whatever. Here's our real plan. They will soon be past us, meaning our way to the entrance will be clear. We move from here to that tree, and then those pines, finally to those juniper bushes and we are out the gate, cross the street and that's it, we are home. At every stop we check their position and use the flora as our cover. "

" That.... Makes sense. Did you get this from a movie? "

" Does it matter?" Actually he is very surprised himself that he came up with an effective strategy so fast; he dismisses his emotions and concentrates on the task ahead. 

" No, not really just... "

"Quiet! Okay, here they come! On the count of three, we move!" 

Jaskier has no choice but to obey the commands. He realizes Geralt might have got his strategy from a role playing campaign. It is his hobby as well, but he is usually in for the adventure not the military tactics and such; those bore him to hell. 

The police patrols, by their voice a man and a woman, possibly young, go past them and head to the farthest corner of the park. 

"One, two, three! Go!" 

They tread silently but swiftly. They reach the first two stops without incident. The entrance, a wrought iron gate (which no one closes even during the curfew, since many local residents can only access their buildings through that and the park), is already visible. They are about to make for their third stop when Jaskier steps on a fallen branch, which gives out an awful snapping noise. They can hear the patrols talking and then running in their direction, there flashlights a clear indication of their position. Geralt is quick to make a decision. 

"No time for more stops. To the entrance! Now! As fast as you can!" 

On a whim, he grabs his hand and they run as if it was a balrog chasing them, jumping across suspicious flower bed edges and small bushes, then they speed up even more as they get on the paved path. They have the advantage of knowing the lay of the land, so to speak. The patrols don't even catch a glimpse of them when they are flying past the gate, across the street and into their own building.

The heavy door closes with a resounding metallic bang. The motion sensor turns on the lights. They lean against the door with their backs, side by side, panting, adrenaline still flooding their systems as the last echoes die down in the hallway. They look at each other, faces still contorted from fear and exertion. They burst into laughter ; the kind that's wild and contagious and can't easily be curbed as it springs from pure, unbridled joy. They laugh in unison, then in canon, then in a curious harmony, then... Then someone shouts a "Keep it down, will ya?" down the hall, so they dial it down to a snicker. Jaskier mouths "up?" ; Geralt nods. The singer makes for the stairs but his arm is grabbed from behind. Geralt whirls him back to his previous position (back against the door) and kisses him, and it's playful and pure and passionate at once. He tastes of snow and ice and somehow, a bit like earth and Jaskier kisses back, laughing against Geralt's mouth softly. There is no need for words : as they ascend the stairs, stopping because of fits of giggles or for an exchange of snow-flavored kisses, they are both overcome with the surety that their relationship, founded on friendship that will never fade, has the potential to bloom into something extraordinary.


	8. Wild and Sweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feral Jaskier makes an appearance as Geralt is insulted. Geralt realizes he has not been a good boyfriend. And they finally have a proper date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to put a less than soft scene in here (not spicy you thirsty things ;)) but the boys decided otherwise. Their relationship is progressing nicely tho, and I love the softness of them. Also I could not resist putting in actor! Jaskier a little and Feral! Jaskier a LOT because he is a true delight to see hahaha (glances at Feral Bard series...) it's a great contrast too in his character and I am safe to say,I think, we Jaskier/Joey stans are all living for that shit.  
> Enjoy!

"Are you sure? That's awful! I really wanted to have them over for Christmas Eve... " A dejected Jaskier says to Geralt and he lifts his fork to eat the last of his salad, then steals a piece of chicken from his boyfriend's plate.

He brought their lunch to the pharmacy, in order to take care of his workaholic boyfriend. Jaskier was sure he would have gone without a bite and maybe only one coffee break the whole day. Luckily enough they are allowed to have a couple minutes to eat together at the back, and that alone made it worth the little extra effort.

Geralt does not comment on the thievery. "Yes, they were sure. But Eskel said they could come over between the two holidays for a make-up celebration, on the twenty-eighth for example, for lunch and maybe some board games." 

"And teasing." Jaskier grins. They already had their fair share of the verbal jabs from Geralt's brothers over the phone, but it is going to be even worse in person. He doesn't mind because, for one, it's all in good fun, for two, he gets to call Geralt his boyfriend, and they have been falling madly in love with every passing day, so who cares what anyone else says. 

"Yeah, all the teasing. He actually used that exact phrase." Geralt grins back. He would endure all the ribbing, he thinks, if he can be the one seeing the first half-asleep smile of the yet drool-crested mouth of Jaskier every day for the foreseeable future. 

"Should we put on a show for them? Make them cringe by being extra handsy? Making out right in their stupid faces - that I genuinely miss seeing, don't get me wrong, but those smug smiles..." Jaskier trails off. 

"I know what you mean. And definitely. Hmmm also, how about leaving incriminating evidence of our sex life all around the apartment? A pair of underwear here, a tube of lube there... Not on the table, but you know, half-hidden", he winks at Jaskier conspiratorially, which makes the singer turn red because of course his mind is already supplying images of how they will actually fuck each other senseless on every possible surface. He does not share this with Geralt, just replies with an

"Accidentally, of course", and his eyes are alight with mischief. 

"Oh a hundred percent accidentally indeed. Better practice our fake-apologetic reactions to go with." 

Jaskier the actor is immediately up to the challenge ; his voice is lilting, almost sing-song and his eyes bulge comically as he puts a hand to his mouth as in surprise, uttering "Oh my, so sorry Lambert I forgot to put it in the drawer after we were done....

"Putting it in", they finish the sentence and laugh in unison. 

"Perfect. Like your acting always is...." Geralt says once their mirth settles and if that weren't enough to melt Jaskier's heart, the gentle kiss on the back of his hand would amend that. 

"Flatterer..." 

"Not in the least. Now come here, sunshine", he pulls Jaskier over to his lap, the folding chair creaking horribly at the added weight. "I am awfully hungry...." 

" Oh are you? I actually brought some dessert, too...." Jaskier plays the innocent, but already has his mouth hover dangerously close to Geralt's. 

"Mmmh I meant for your kisses, sunshine..." 

"Oh I can quell that craving as well, dear heart..." he whispers before doing exactly that. They keep it sweet and innocent, aware of their environment, just passionate enough to get their pulse to quicken. They are right to do so as two minutes later, Josef calls for Geralt and he leaves to stand behind the counter with a parting hug and burning chocolate eyes that make Jaskier sink his teeth hard into his lower lip to stop it from crushing against Geralt's anew. With his boyfriend physically gone, his mind conjures all the wonderful things he is going to do to him once they are home, while cleaning up after their lunch. 

Geralt himself is floating on a pink cloud of happiness; he pushes the images of his beautiful boyfriend and his absolutely sinful mouth to the back of his mind, however. He has to be professional and level-headed. 

He is doing well with the former but the third patient he has to deal with, a ragged-looking man with thinning brown hair and missing teeth, his eyes glassy probably from alcohol, is pushing his limits of patience. He keeps complaining about the prices and the long waiting times and just anything and everything that Geralt has personally no control over. Of course the poor man has a right to complain and Geralt can emphatize but... Oh and now he is insulting him. Explicitly. Wow.

But before he could start placating him, he hears his sunshine 's voice, with a thunderous edge, no less. 

"Excuse me???" 

He emerges from the back, mask already on, and goes around the counter to step closer, as much as the rules allow anyway. 

Geralt catches a glimpse of his face and it's livid. He has seen that expression before and it never bodes well. "Jaskier... " 

"No, dear heart. This has become personal." Geralt murmurs a thousand fucks, inwardly of course because professionalism. He can only be a spectator now as Jaskier unleashes his feral side.

"How dare you insult this man, this wonderful, kind and noble man. Did he set the prices you find too high? Did he cause this stupid pandemic? Did he make the rules that assure your safety, mind you, but may make you wait a little longer? Guess what, I am waiting longer too. Wait for my wonderful, workaholic and just awfully perfect boyfriend to get home, exhausted from working all day literally, because he has to fill in for his sick co-workers too, and I wait for him, only to share two sentences before he collapses, exhausted from dealing with patients. Sometimes he is crying on my shoulder instead of kissing me because he has seen so much suffering and gave his attention, not just drugs, to so many sick people and their relatives that that is all he can do, that's how emotionally exhausted he gets. I have to come here to have lunch with me so I can make sure he takes a break and eats. He is a fucking saint, that's what who is and you should be kissing his feet. "

Geralt blushes and looks at the keyboard in his embarrassment. He isn't really that great a person, for one, for two, he realizes how much he put his work over his best friend-became boyfriend and he takes a mental note to rectify it as soon as possible. Jaskier does not even spare him a glance, though, just continues his monologue. Also, he is surprised to note his lust waking at seeing Jaskier so assertive, borderline aggressive in his energies, on his behalf, to boot. This may turn into a new kink, he muses, not minding it the slightest. 

Jaskier goes on, his arms flailing wildly. "So cut your shit. And put that box of vitamins or whatever it is back to the shelf while we're at it. Do you think I haven't noticed you snooping around? You would rob the place you come to for healing and you insult the personnel who gives that to you. Fuck you. Yeah you heard right. Geralt or Josef can only think this, but I don't work here so sue me. Now scram before I do something I would regret. Fuck off. Get out. " He is yelling, pointing at the entrance." Take your shitty attitude somewhere else."

The man, shocked speechless, puts a small box in Jaskier's hand and does as told, escaping from his wrath. One of the other patients, a middle-aged lady starts clapping, and soon, the others join in, even those in line outside (well Jaskier used his stage voice, so no surprise they heard every word). Jaskier takes a bow and is already his cheery, grinning self. Geralt just stares at him as he walks up to him, asking 

"Are you all right, dear heart?" with his sweetest, kindest timbre, his hands gently caressing the pharmacist's stubbled jawline and that is the final drop. Geralt takes him by the hand and strides out of the room with a "Be right back" to Josef who just hawks at the other counter. Jaskier yelps and tries to keep up, or at least not stumble and fall. 

"What is... mmmmmmgmnnnnhhh" 

Geralt silences his question with a searing kiss, unleashing his pent-up lust on him the moment they are technically not in his place of employment. 

"Fuck... Jaskier.... Sunshine.... That was....." he mumbles against his lips and skin as he is devouring his amazing, devoted boyfriend, who is now pinned to the back door, shivering from the cold and the wild impromptu make-out session simultaneously. Geralt's tongue skates down on his graceful neck playfully and once he gets under the collar of Jaskier's turquoise shirt, he shifts gears. He bites down and sucks on the warm, pliant skin like a vampire, making the smaller man cry out and buck his hips against the thighs that trapped him. His cry softens into a series of moans as his quickly growing erection grinds against his lover through the fabric of their clothes. Geralt has lost all control, and the beautiful sounds his sunshine produces do not help. His mouth is making a bruised mess of Jaskier's hairy chest, his nails scraping pink lines onto the skin of the man's stomach ; he has half a mind to just suck him off right there, decency and no-sex rule and anything else be damned.  
A sudden honk jolts him out of his sex-steamed state; he steps back and turns around to see the van of the afternoon delivery pulling up. They quickly make themselves presentable, wave to the driver and slip back into the building. 

Jaskier runs to the bathroom and cools himself off while Geralt apologizes to a grinning driver first, then a similarly smiling Josef. 

"Oh no, don't you apologize, if anything I am grateful for Jaskier's little performance. It's time someone put those kind of people to their places. I wish I could do it, just time to time. Plus he has such a keen eye, I didn't even notice the theft. And he was right about you. You work too much, too hard and that's partly on me. I want to make that right. Could you come with me to the office for a moment? I want to go over your schedule immediately. "

" But Rose and Emily.... "

" Actually, Rose will be back tomorrow and Emily in two or three days. In any case it's about you, not them. If you would follow me, please. Consider it an order. "

" Yes, boss," he sighs and saunters after him. 

" A whole week's vacation from the twenty-fourth? And only six hours a day until February? " Jaskier exclaims and promptly hugs Geralt, showering him with tiny kisses all over his face. The pharmacist has just shared the changes in his schedule. Jaskier is besides himself,shaking with excitement and joy. 

"Calm down, Jaskier. You can kiss me all you want once we get home. Josef said the changes are effective immediately and sent me home for the day, with.... Some suggestions on what we should do with our free time which I am not repeating, considering..." Geralt smiles, a little sad. He wants to do as per Josef suggested: make love to Jaskier, really really bad, and now they seem to have the time for it, too. But he can't and won't, not yet. 

"Oh my he is the best. I want to get him a Christmas present. In fact let's go get it right away! Change, dear heart, and let's be on our way!"  
Jaskier gives him another quick peck on his cheek and storms out of the small room before he is tempted to stay and watch his boyfriend get out of his clothes because he isn't sure he could keep his hands to himself and it's still a place of work. 

The little shopping trip turns into a proper date, with coffee, desserts, and strolling hand in hand on the snowy streets, while admiring the pastel-colored aquarel of a sunset, then the Christmas illumination that has turned Visegrad into a winter wonderland, and just making conversation about whatever would come to their mind. They did find the perfect present to get for Josef as a couple; a Tiffany lamp with a lovely snake motif, sold at a reasonable price at an antique shop. 

As they steer their heavy, shuffling steps toward their apartment, now in companionable silence, Jaskier suddenly speaks up softly. 

"I really missed you." 

"I know."Geralt untwines their fingers and embraces Jaskier's broad shoulders, then plants an ephemeral kiss on his temple, delighting in the clean smell of his hair as he does so." I missed you too. I wasn't being the boyfriend you deserve, just.... taking you granted, spending all my time and energy on work. I'm sorry." He sighs and looks into the impossibly blue orbs of Jaskier, getting lost in their depth for a couple seconds. The brunette lifts a hand to his chin and kisses him deeply. The faint aromas of coffee and raspberries slide onto Geralt's tongue immediately. He lets himself get lost in the taste and texture of his lover for a couple seconds before breaking apart for decency 's sake. 

"Apology accepted." Jaskier smiles radiantly then chuckles. "Hey, we just had our first real date, didn't we?" 

"Oh.... I guess we really did. Good thing we have been friends. I would have been awfully nervous and silent with such a hottie otherwise." 

"I could say the same. But you know what's the best thing?" 

"What?" 

"That I don't have to watch you walk away at the end." By that sentence, they have arrived at their building but they don't enter. 

"Hmmmm. I don't agree."

"Why so?" 

"The best part is that I can have you fall asleep on my shoulder and wake up to you drooling on my shirt." Geralt says with soft confidence and a warm, molten chocolate gaze. 

Jaskier's left speechless. His voice chords desperately wish to vibrate with the words 'I love you' but his chest doesn't let them. It's too soon, warns an inner voice. So he uses his lips to convey his feelings, kissing Geralt against the entrance door to their building with all the ferocity of his being.


	9. Shocks of All Kinds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys have many things happen to them, some good, some bad, all shocking. No spoilers :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaah it's a monster of a chapter and I cried out/groaned when I finally finished and I hope it satisfies 😊😊😊

"I forfeit", Jaskier pants against the sharp of Geralt's jawline.

"Hmmm?" the ashen-haired man does not comprehend as he is too busy with assaulting the brunette's kiss-bruised lips with his own, while his hands are divesting both of them of their coats. Their hats and scarves are already scattered on the tiles of their small hallway. 

"I can't wait any longer. Fuck me. Right now." He snakes his hand around his lover's waist and squeezes his perfect, round ass the way he has been dying to do so for... Ever. 

"In the hallway?" Geralt mirrors his actions, upping the ante and boldly diving under the waistline of his lover's boxer briefs, the hot skin there erupting in goosebumps from his cool fingers, earning him a lovely gasp, then grinds his pelvis against Jaskier's. He mewls in answer and runs his hands up to the small of Geralt's back, then curls his fingers, nails plowing into the meat of him. 

"Mmmh no. Counter?" Jaskier suggests. He lets go, then takes the couple steps required to get to said object. He kicks off his boots and hops on top, his snowflake-patterned red jumper already halfway up his torso. 

"Fine. But that's two weeks of chores for you." Geralt grins and follows him. He steps between the welcoming long legs that instantly wrap around his hips the moment he is close enough, and gives Jaskier a hand with the garment, which makes a static-filled mess of the soft, fine hair that he smoothes down before kissing him again, just under his ears, making him buck into the larger man. Geralt is already dealing with the buttons and zipper on his jeans even before Jaskier answers with a breathy, impatient 

"Oh who the fuck cares, just have me already."

They don't bother with shirts or even with taking their trousers and underwear fully off. While Jaskier slides down from the countertop, Geralt grabs the oil from a drawer, kicking it shut with too much force, which results in a bang, followed shortly by the clinking of glass and the thud of something toppling over but all they do is laugh at it.

"You know we have lube though..." Jaskier reconsiders the choice of lubricant as Geralt is already making a mess, the oil dripping from his hands to their clothes and the floor.

"Too far. I'll clean up after. Now turn around, sunshine, let me see your gorgeous ass", he urges Jaskier almost nonchalantly, except for the lust-hazed gaze that accompanies his words. 

" Oh I hope you'll do much more than oooooh yeah....... Mmmmnhhh." 

Indeed, he does.

The familiar physical sensations of smooth fingers gliding on his cock and circling at his entrance are, in and of themselves, have their usual effect, but the fact that it's Geralt's hands causing them makes his head reel and body undulate with pure want. 

His eloquence is long gone before the tip of a digit presses into him. All he does is produce short, throaty moans and the occasional sharp hiss as far as speech goes. Geralt is fucking him open on his fingers now, gently but firmly, not skimping on rumbling praises of how good he is, how great he feels and looks, which make his knees weak. He lowers his upper body and is splayed on the cool, marble- patterned black plastic from his belly button up. He turns his head so now he faces the windows across the living room. The colorful lights twinkle merrily and he thinks this is going to be the greatest Christmas of his life, after all.

"Ready, love?" 

"Yes...been for years..." Jaskier whimpers and then Geralt slides home, sweet but firm, like the man himself is, filling him wonderfully. He closes his eyes from the intensity of the act and of the emotions that surge up from the bottom of his soul. 

"How does it feel, love?" he asks, half in jest as he nearly straightens up, his lover's hands trekking from his hips to his pebbled nipples under his ruffled shirt on a short path, in sync with the upward movement of Jaskier's torso. 

"Perfect," Geralt whispers against his - still awfully clothed - shoulder blades and the brunette would float away on a fuzzy cloud of bliss, he thinks, if he wasn't anchored by Geralt, inside and out. 

"Don't move just yet", Jaskier pleads and hastily gets rid of his button-down. He is rewarded with nips and kisses and a couple love bites for his efforts.

"Please... Can I...?" Geralt sounds positively wrecked. Jaskier just nods, then they start rocking with and against each other. Their rhythm is not perfectly smooth, since it is their first time, after all, but the little missteps make it all the sweeter, each an opportunity to learn and teach the other more. Soon, Jaskier tires a bit so leans on the counter again, facing the window. 

"Faster...." he demands and Geralt obliges. 

His blank gaze gets lost in the lights as they move more and more frantically, panting and moaning and the sloppy and guttural sounds of sex making a piece of music that has no score, the line flashes through Jaskier's brain and he hopes he will remember it after. 

Suddenly the lights shift. 

Jaskier blinks, confused. 

The glowing little circles double up and morph into eyes. 

Jaskier freezes. 

The eyes blink. The shadows on the balcony flutter. 

Jaskier screams and hides behind the counter. To his horror, Geralt is nowhere to be found. His breathing is ragged but not for the fun reason anymore, and the tiles are cold on his naked, soppy bottom and where is his boyfriend? Panic tightens its nasty, bony fingers around his chest.

A howl rattles the windows and his vision blurs. He curles up on the floor, trembling. He closes his eyes. 

There's a metallic swish and the air vibrates with an unfamiliar energy, the smell of ozone creeping into his nose. 

He opens his eyes ; the apartment is gone ; he is in a dark, deserted shed of some sorts, dusty and on the verge of collapse, half overgrown with weeds. Somehow he knows it's the break of a foggy dawn. Geralt's voice, even deeper than he remembers it, booms from outside: "Stay there, Jaskier". A shriek vibrates in the air, nearly piercing his eardrum and he hugs his lute (???) closer. There is clearly a fight going on outside; he is desperately worried for Geralt's life, although he knows the witcher (the what?) will most likely triumph easily.

Still, after the initial shock settles somewhat, his pulse throbbing violently in his ear, he peeps out through the crack of the door. He just catches sight of a terrible claw tearing at Geralt's black leather armor (???) and he wants to run out and help, somehow, anyhow and he grabs a broken rake, when Geralt seemingly reads his mind and glances back over his shoulder with terribly flashing amber eyes (???), shouting "Stay the fuck back! I'm fine!" and downs some kind of potion (???). Then he motions with his fingers and holy fuck his hand is on fire and Jaskier screams again.... 

"Jaskier! Wake up!" 

His lids pop open, immediately finding molten chocolate eyes under worry-furrowed brows hovering above his face. His shoulders are shaken, then caressed by a large, gentle and definitely not burning hand, which he grabs and all but yanks to his face, snuggling against it. His heart that threatens to shatter his ribcage, gradually settles into its regular beat as Geralt whispers soothing words that are bringing him back to the reality : his healer of a boyfriend, in black cotton pyjamas, the reading lamp on the nightstand behind him setting his silver mane aglow, comforting him with words and reverent strokes of hand in their warm bed (technically it's Geralt's bed, but last night neither of them wanted to part with the other after that romantic first date, so without much discussion, Jaskier clad in his cat-patterned pyjamas, brought his blanket and pillow to Geralt's bed. They fell asleep with Geralt spooning him, legs entangled). 

"Better, sunshine?" he asks after long minutes of comforting. 

"Yes, much better..." he kisses those perfect lips lightly. "Oh Geralt, it was horrible.... The nightmare...." he grabs Geralt's bicep with his right, tethering himself to him and reality. "The lights became eyes while we were... and then you were gone and then there was a fight and a monster and you were... We were there, but different, like a fantasy movie, a very very dark one and there was this terrible claw and you bled, then your hands started burning...." he rushes through the recollection with ragged breath, not so keen on reliving the experience by going into details. " Geralt maybe I am going crazy but it all felt so...Real, like not even a dream but.... "

"A memory?" There is a shine of complete understanding in his eyes. Jaskier sits up. 

"Have you...?" 

"Yes, I've had similar episodes lately. It's always very fragmented, but I am always this monster fighter, a witcher, whatever may that be, and you are this ridiculously clothed minstrel. The emotional side of the experience is very vague, but I, or he, has this very strong urge to protect... You. Who is not you, but... "he trails off. 

"I know what you mean. Why haven't you told me about it?" 

"I didn't think much of them. I thought these were just dreams; my mind going a bit crazy from all the stress and all the... feelings..." he blushes slightly at that and it's so adorable Jaskier melts inside. "If they woke me, I just meditated for a while, or had Roach calm me with her purring, then went back to sleep." 

"Do you think there can be... More to them? " 

"They all seemed pretty standard fantasy scenes so I assumed it was just my brain doing its hobby. But if we are having the same dreams, then... 

"We are having the same dreams", Jaskier declares with great conviction and his mind is dizzy with confusion. 

"I...oh fuck Jaskier I am so sorry but I can't think...." he yawns and Jaskier realizes how exhausted he looks, his face crumpled, eyes baggy. "Can we go back to sleep and talk about it tomorrow? Please?" 

"Yeah. Hold me?" the brunette pleads softly as they are already settling back to sleep, spooning under the covers like the night before. 

"Sure. Sweet dreams, sunshine. Or no dreams." 

"It is already a dream, having you cuddle me like this." Jaskier can't help confessing. 

"Mmmh I concur, it is quite nice. Try to sleep, now, you poet." Geralt mumbles and they slowly drift to blessedly dreamless unconsciousness. 

The alarm rings way to soon. They drag themselves out of bed with heavy feet, their faces only smoothing into their near-normal state from the steam rising from their coffee cups. They are sitting down, face to face at the little fold-out table. 

"So if not dreams, what are these.... Episodes we are having? Oh fuck.... I just realized I had one earlier awake too. A very short and blurry one but... Bloody hell what is happening to us?" Panic rises in his gut, acidic. He puts down the cup and reaches out for his boyfriend with trembling fingers. Lacing their fingers together doesn't prove efficient so Geralt has him stand up for a proper hug to calm him. Jaskier is burrowing into his neck, making the larger man wish fervently that he could do or say more to help. 

"I don't know. I do know one thing.... We will get through it together. Just like quarantine, or Elena's cancer.... Or senior year of university... We have already been through and overcome so much, sunshine. What's one more obstacle?" he whispers while stroking his back. 

" But we have no idea what we are up against. " Jaskier is on the verge of crying, his voice hitches. Geralt slowly veers them towards the couch. They pull away from each other to settle down on it, with Jaskier's head laying on Geralt's lap as he lounges on his back, knees bent so his long legs don't hang over the seat. Magnetized, his fingers quickly tangle into the fanned out, soft locks, and Jaskier gives out a satisfied little sigh. The gears in Geralt's mind start turning faster and faster.... He lets go of the controls, just like he does when faced with a particularly challenging experiment or chemical equation; he had found that free from conscious effort, the free association between various parts of his memory result in a way to get to the solution. And sure enough, half a minute later, he shouts

"Multiverse." 

"Ah! Shit! Geralt don't do this!" Jaskier jolts up in surprise, shaking. 

"Sorry.... But you know the Multiverse Theory? So what if we get these... Snippets of events from a different universe? 

" I do know about it, of course. But how? Like... It's channeled to our brains?is that what you mean? " Jaskier's imagination is starting to soar as well." Someone sending us these... Signals? But for what purpose? And besides why is it sooo....medieval? Shouldn't a parallel universe be a bit more.... advanced? Even without the industrial revolution and such... 

"Maybe it was channeled there in the past? Maybe it was in us before, dormant, waiting to emerge?" 

"Like memories from a past life? A reincarnation through the fabric of the Multiverse? But why us? I mean we are nothing special." 

" I don't agree. You are plenty special to me, sunshine."

"Oh and so are you for me, dear heart, but we are not like superhero-special. I'm a jobless actor and a singer of an indie folk band that has one and a half album so far, and you a pharmacist with a crazy amount of knowledge of herbs and lab stuff which I can barely comprehend but... "

"Okay but was Frodo and Sam any special before their call to adventure? Or Spider-Man before he was bitten?" Geralt counters heatedly. 

"Oh don't you go there. We aren't in a fantasy novel or a superhero comic. It's a world quite lacking in magic. Sadly. "

"But what if they were? Or are? This witcher and minstrel? I mean if all kinds of universes exist.... And I don't agree with you, Jaskier. We have plenty of magic. What about love? Or music? Or any other form of art?" 

"Isn't love just a chemical reaction in our brain? Mr Science Guy?" Jaskier wrinkles his nose and narrows his eyes. 

"I never liked that hypothesis. It doesn't align with my experience either...." He trails off and looks everywhere but at his boyfriend. Jaskier grants him mercy; they have enough on their plates, it's really bad timing for that talk, especially if his dear heart is so uncomfortable with the subject. 

" So cross-multiverse reincarnation? But what propelled it? Or who? Is... Is it a call to adventure? 'Cause I don't see any." 

Geralt sighs. "I don't have the faintest idea, but the other option is that we are going insane together, for the same reason to boot. And if I had to choose, I'd go with the first." 

"Oh speaking of going, darling... I think we should be getting ready. " Jaskier points at the clock on the oven. They have about ten minutes to get ready if they want to leave at 7.00.

" Yeah. Do you feel better, sunshine?" Geralt asks as Jaskier abandons the pillow that were his thighs, missing his warmth and weight already. 

" I do. I will be pondering this... Multiverse theory all day, though. "

" Try not to overthink, sunshine. I mean we are not in any immediate danger. Sure it's weird and the nightmares are not nice but what else could happen?" 

"Both of us might go bonkers?" Jaskier quickly chugs down his coffee and grabs a yogurt from the fridge. As soon as he closes its door, Geralt is right behind him, snuggling his neck, whispering

"Then we'll do that together." 

"Oh aren't you the sweetest...." Jaskier pirouettes in the loose embrace of his boyfriend to kiss him on the nose.

"Mmmh right after you.... " hungry, night-chapped lips assault Jaskier's own, but he resists. 

"Geralt! Work!" he exclaims with a fake-indignant lilt, which of course has no effect other than him being kissed even more ardently, crowded against the sink and that makes him have vivid flashbacks of the fun part of his dream and fuck, Geralt's hands do NOT help matters with their sensual dance around his pleasure trail... 

"Yeah I know..." 

They both end up being a quarter hour late, in desperate need of a cold shower or two. 

Jaskier gets home, as per their schedule, an hour before Geralt and he is just about to have the leisurely wank session he has been planning the whole way home. He has to give it to his tease of a boyfriend, he muses with a bitter little smile, he did not worry about either the nightmares or multiverse reincarnations during the day. He was preoccupied, rather, with lamenting the fact that there was still a whole week left until Christmas Eve. Well desperate times.... He sighs and is about to get comfortable on his bed when his phone rings. 

He has half a mind to let it go to voicemail; he is half-hard already, his brain full of steamy images of his boyfriend's shapely... well, everything... With a despondent huff, he glances at the screen. It might be Geralt, after all. 

It isn't. The caller is his agent. 

He picks up immediately. 

He is not even three seconds into the call when he hears the clinking of keys and the door opening and closing. 

Geralt is happy to get home early again. Josef has apparently been thinking that they are fucking 24/7, judging by the shit-eating grin on his face when he went to the office to apologize. He was worryingly supportive of his tardiness, even sending him home early, citing it's a slow day and he obviously needed some rest, latter followed by a wink. Taiki's souring expression indicated they probably have a bet running on how much time he is missing from work until Christmas or the likes. He just shakes his head, smirking to himself. It is him who is the real winner here, after all. But where is his boyfriend? Usually he flies into his arms before he has the chance to say hi. 

"Jaskier? Where are you?" He quickly takes off his layers, leaving on only his teal T-shirt (he wears it often nowadays because the color reminds him of Jaskier's eyes)above his skin-tight jeans (which he wears because then those eyes are certain to look at him even more often and more intensely). Roach comes up to him, demanding attention which he gladly gives, petting the purring fluffball just the way she likes, with lots of scratching under her chin and behind the ears.

Jaskier still hasn't emerged; he smirks.... Is he being naughty again? He sneaks up to his door and opens it without knocking. 

His boyfriend is standing at the foot of the bed, frozen in place with his phone at his right ear, his left hand over his mouth, eyelids shimmering with tears. Geralt stares at him with wide eyes and crinkled brows. 

"I got a role. For the Lord of the Rings series." Jaskier finally supplies in a choked whisper, as if he did not believe what he's just said. The phone flies to the bed and Jaskier is jumping on him; it takes all his strength and balance to keep themselves from toppling over. Then he starts laughing; it bubbles out through his lips like a spring, and flows into Geralt's soul, rejuvenating ; he spins him around twice, his low chuckles joining in his merriment, before he trips and the room is tilting fast but he veers them as much as he can, so they end up on the bed, bouncing from the force of their impact. They keep laughing until Geralt breaks the embrace and rolls away from Jaskier before crushing him. 

"Congratulations, sunshine. What role did you get?" 

" Oh I don't know yet. They are very secretive about the whole project." Jaskier is about to roll on top of Geralt and kiss him silly but his boyfriend clambers up and heads out the room. "And where exactly are you going?" he pouts.

"Get the wine and glasses. We are going to the park. Every role you got, we celebrated there so... 

"Oh okay, we can do that. But first...." he catches up to him and pushes him against the bathroom door. 

"Hmmm. Talented, sexy and bold.... I like that...." Geralt sultrily voices his delight at the playful attack. Jaskier's hirsute body cages the larger man effortlessly, making the latter tremble with excitement. 

"Good. Now shut up and kiss me, dear heart, like I deserve it." 

Geralt has no other option, but again, it's not like he needs that and sets about the task diligently. 

The sun is already setting by the time they are in the park having their impromptu celebratory winter picnic, with lots of blankets, pillows, wine, cheese and bread. Jaskier's cheeks are kissed pink by the cold and the drink. They are speculating about his role and the series as a whole, Jaskier doing impersonations of various characters from the fantasy franchise. Then the actor grows restless and giddy. He jumps up on top of the bench, one foot on top of the backrest, half-full wine glass still in hand, the liquid swirling dangerously, and yells, "I got a role, Geralt! I'm gonna be an elf! No! I'm going to be a valar!" Geralt growls a "Keep it down! Sssshhh!" and tries to pull an annoyed, angry face at him but it melts into a smile too fast for Jaskier to take seriously. The brunette starts skipping around the snow-blanketed park, screaming his happiness to the skies. Suddenly, a loud baritone answers from a balcony of the nearest building. "What's wrong?" 

"I got an acting job! I'm going to be on a TV series! ", he yells back, fist raised to the skies. 

"Congrats, man!" comes the cheery reply. Another voice, a lower one, from a couple balcony over bellows: "That's awesome! Good for you!" 

Suddenly, there are others joining the chorus and some people are even clapping, all merry and Jaskier basks in the attention, jumping around, hollering his thanks to all the well-wishing neighbors.

All Geralt can do is watch him, his beautiful, feral, talented, crazy boyfriend-turned-friend,with amazement; it's the first time he has seen him this happy and carefree in a very long while. A curious feeling, like a purring, fluffy cat, curls up in his ribcage and the warmth of it radiates through him despite the cold of the evening.

He is not given much opportunity to contemplate. Out of the blue, Jaskier runs to him, pulls him up from his seat with one hand and makes him join his frolicking, his grip firm and hungry. Geralt feigns reluctance but only for two seconds, since the energy of Jaskier is nothing but contagious. They dance and skip around the frozen park, hand in hand, avoiding the wayward trees and obnoxious curbstones as much as possible, brushing off snow with an elbow or shoulder from branches, causing white, icy flurries.

Geralt suddenly bumps against their bench with his bottom. They stop, panting and disheveled and smiling like madmen. Geralt reaches out to get the snow out of Jaskier's tangled mess of a hair (he makes a mental note to look for his lost hat before heading home). Their gazes meet and snuggle into each other. Geralt blurts out, as if it was the most natural phrase to roll off his tongue, 

"I love you." 

Jaskier's pupils widen but not because of the dark; he has thought of a million poetic or funny reply before, but they all free from him, like birds alighting from a pond, at the sudden confession. The silence stretches out and Geralt's face is getting tense; he gives up and just says, because it's simple and natural and true, 

"I love you, too." 

Geralt sighs with relief before his parted lips are claimed in a searing kiss. 

When they emerge from the sea of passion, Jaskier starts running again. "My boyfriend loves me! HE LOVES ME!" 

The neighborhood erupts in claps and hollers and whistles again and Geralt thinks he should be embarrassed, but finds that he doesn't really care.


	10. It's Not Fair...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A concert /live show, some Christmas Eve fluff, a little angst, lots of kissing and lovemaking and a (not so big) surprise. Finally it's done.

_How in the world did I get so lucky?_

That is the only thought that has been ricocheting in Geralt's mind for the last hour or so. He has been watching his beloved, Jaskier, in one of his true elements : making music. It's not just a performance, playing the guitar or singing ; he has transcended, his voice one with the emotions of their songs, his whole body consumed and moved by the passion in them. Last but not least, the gold shirt he is wearing, with blue rhinestones the very same hue as his eyes, is making him shine, dazzle and radiate. What fae, he looks like a god, Geralt muses and he smiles and sighs like a besotted teenager but it's okay, because his god, who is only his to worship, is smiling at him in return, with a promise of heavenly blessings in his gaze.

The concert is about to end (it is in actuality just a live stream being recorded in an abandoned factory, with no audience aside from one or two close relative or partner of The Sublime Fae members because of the pandemic, standing at a considerable distance from both the band and each other). Geralt is very much looking forward to enjoying said promised blessings in private. However, after the last accord of the last song fades into nothingness, Jaskier, to the surprise of all, does not say farewell to the online audience. "Dear hearts, I have one more song for you. Technically it's not a Sublime Fae piece yet, but I can't keep this to myself ; not now that we have just proclaimed our love with the most wonderful person I have ever known...." At that, the band members starts ooooh-ing, and Jaskier smirks, half-embarrassed, "Oh shut up, you knew it was coming, and no, I was not the one saying it first. "He grins and Geralt feels the heat rise in his cheeks, then the singer's face turns serious and looks him straight in the eye. " So this one is for you, love. I hope you will be standing here by me for... A long time, because it's not fair how much I love you. "

The band members have already moved to the side when his fingers start coalescing a melody from his instrument. Then his soft tenor joins in and Geralt is stunned by the end of the first verse:

_It's what my heart just yearns to say_

_In ways that can't be said_

_It's what my rotting bones will sing_

_When the rest of me is dead_

_It's what's engraved upon my heart_

_In letters deeply worn_

_Today, I somehow understand the reason I was born_

He listens enraptured, noting the little details of their lives woven so seamlessly and subtly into the lyrics, but then he sings these lines:

_"It's not fair, it's not fair how much I love you_

_It's not fair, 'cause you make me laugh_

_When I'm actually really fucking cross at you for something"_

_And he'll say_

_"Oh, how, oh, how unreasonable_

_How unreasonably in love I am with everything you do_

_I'll spend my days so close to you_

_'Cause if I'm standing here, maybe everyone will think I'm alright"_

Well, that's when he feels wet streaks running down his cheeks; he lets them. Jaskier sees his predicament and there is a quaver to his words that probably was not meant to be there as he continues:

_"I've seen enough, " he says, "I know exactly what I want"_

_And it's this life that we've created_

_Inundated with the fated thought of you_

_And if you asked me to, if you asked me, I would lose it all_

_Like petals in a storm_

_'Cause, darling, I was born to press my head_

_Between your shoulder blades at night when light is fading_

_Just to let you know, I'm old, waylaid and feels like I am wading_

_Into carpet burns and carousels_

_Christ, you'll be the death of me_

_And calm throughout his melodrama_

_She will turn and say, "Dear heart, it's me, its me_

_You don't need to pretend to be someone you're not_

_'Cause it's not like I've never heard you fart and snore_

_And for some godforsaken reason_

_I'm still here, love, like I've always been before_

_And he'll say...._

And Geralt is sobbing, kneeling on the cold, concrete floor, keeping in the sounds as best he can with a fist in his mouth, his hair a curtain to hide in. Jaskier looks at his band mates who just nod. The music halts and he all but flies to his distraught beloved, tearing the guitar off of him as fast as possible, while Tony, the violinist grabs a mic and wraps up the concert with the others joining him, wishing merry Christmas to their fans to the camera, reassuring them that the two lovebirds are indeed fine, just busy crying, kissing and hugging each other and no, they are not showing that on camera because it's just disgustingly adorable. 

"I'm sorry for ruining your song." 

Those are Geralt's first shaky, hoarse words when he has regained the ability of speech. 

"No, you shouldn't be. I have never been given a higher praise, dear heart. Plus this way, at least the fans will be totally amped to hear the full version." Jaskier tries to make a joke to alleviate the tension ; he is absolutely overwrought emotionally and he suspects Geralt is the same. 

Geralt chuckles and gets on his feet, wiping the last drops of tears from his cheeks, then offers his hand to Jaskier, who gladly takes it. 

"Oh yeah, Josef will be pestering me about it the moment he sees me on Monday." Geralt remarks. 

"He just might get a surprise during lunchtime, then. That way we can eat together too. But until Monday, I have you all to myself." Jaskier snakes his hands around Geralt's waist and kisses him lightly on his lips, a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

"Hmmmmm. I think your band would beg to differ", the larger man implores, and with great mental effort, sets himself free of the embrace. 

"Oh yeah, I should be going back. Wait for me?" 

"I'll be here, don't worry. Take your time, love." Jaskier's eyes, if that's possible, light up some more at that. 

"Oooh, that's even better than 'sunshine'. I won't be long", he promises and is already on his way to his bandmates who are teasing and congratulating him in equal measure. 

Geralt watches him go, his radiant sunshine clad in gold and suddenly the room fills with banquet tables; Jaskier is singing and dancing in a crowd of people dressed in a Medieval fashion, lute in hand. He is riotously gorgeous, giving a magnificent performance; Geralt drinks in his every step, every flop of his hair, and he _wants_...to protect him, yes, that's a given, but a dark, sultry and secretive little whisper also drifts to the forefront of his mind: he wants his flirtatious wink to mean something, his fleeting touches to be even bolder. 

He silences the voice fast; that can't and will never be. 

"Geralt?" There is a hand on his forearm. He shakes his head; he is back in the dilapidated factory building. Lydia, the other vocalist is looking up at him, her shock of red hair wildly disheveled, adding to the piercing effect of her hazel eyes. 

"I am glad you two have finally sorted your relationship out." She utters surprisingly amicably. "I 've never seen him this... Stupendously in love. So, just a warning:the moment you hurt him, the fae will come for you." Her voice is dripping with menace by that last phrase and damn she is scary despite being third of his size. 

"Noted. I won't. I have been his best friend, you know." Geralt is confident ; Lydia is not impressed. 

"Exactly. The more reason I have to warn you. Don't. Break. His. Heart." She nearly growls, facing the man so her own expression is not visible for the other musicians. Then she grins and as if nothing happened, cheerily says "Merry Christmas, Geralt. Thanks for coming." 

"Oh fuck Geralt.... You animal.... You couldn't wait for oh God yesssss mmmmh" Jaskier is yet again pinned to their door, coat and boots still on, the white column of his neck in the process of being decorated with love bites. His protest is only half-hearted; the adrenaline of the performance has not faded, not to mention Geralt plays him like a virtuoso, knows all his sensitive spots and how to treat them so he would hear the symphony of his desire. He had him come in his pants before, without breaking their no-sex rules (actually there was a little grinding there but _technically_ that wasn't explicitly prohibited so yes, they found another loophole). He was so bloody smug about it too and based on his actions, probably wanted to repeat that feat now. 

Jaskier, however, had other plans. 

It is not just Geralt who has learnt a thing or two about his body, so when he skims his fingers just above the ribs and the ridiculously defined obliques of his lover with his left hand, the man shudders and his knees buckle slightly, just as expected. Jaskier slips out from the cage that was Geralt's body around him and quickly reverses their position, twirling the flabbergasted man using his momentum and the element of surprise just as much as his physical strength.

Geralt's back slams into the door with a thud. The next moment he has a smugly smirking, aroused singer drawling in his ear: "Now you get a taste of your own medicine, dear heart" then a clever tongue darts out, teasing his earlobe. Jaskier feels his shiver even through their many layers; that's more than enough to embolden him further ; he pins his lover's hands above his head with his right, then his breath is stolen from him just with one glance at Geralt's countenance, a display of trust, adoration and _submission_. He brushes his lips against his at that, showing how he appreciates what Geralt is offering, but his lust flares brightly so the tender moment lasts for only seconds. His mouth travels to his earlobe to tease it with lips and tongue, his free hand's fingers scouring his front from pecs to waist while he shoves his thigh right between strong legs, then his hips bear down on Geralt's and his nerves are screaming, for it's too much yet not enough, not even close. Geralt's low whimper, accompanied by tiny, eager thrusts of his own an answer that is urging the singer onward on his quest to take him apart. He licks at his ear, then neck, and up to the other ear, leaving a glistening trail, the hot, saliva-bathed skin's scent a perfume envelopeing his brain. "Harder. Teeth and nails." Geralt demands and who is he to refuse his beloved's pleas. With teeth grazing, nails scraping, Geralt's enthusiastic moaning and their clothed groins grinding, erections sliding and rocking alongside each other, it doesn't take long for either of them to come. Geralt garbles incoherently as he reaches his peak, and Jaskier drinks those sounds up with a dirty kiss as he follows suit after another ten seconds of aryhtmic rutting, and then all they can do is pant into each other's mouth, drunk on love and lust , Geralt gripping Jaskier's arms with whitening knuckles. 

They slowly spiral down from their high while kissing, tongues and lips dancing a rumba, sensual and full of their deepest emotions. Their hands go lax gradually, until finally they let go of each other with almost apologetic smiles. 

"Errrmmm.... You can have a shower first." 

Jaskier laughs and kisses him again, because really? Those are his first words after what just happened? But all he breathes against his lips is "Thanks, darling. I will." 

Having cleaned themselves and their clothes, they eat a quick dinner then go to bed. Geralt cuddles up to Jaskier's side, head right over his heart, his hair fanned out on his chest. Jaskier plays with the white tresses, combing, curling and twisting them between his long fingers. Content and drowsy, Geralt just enjoys it while listening to his beloved's heartbeat, reveling in the warm, solid sensation of his mass under his head and the scent of his body wash, warm and exotic. 

"What did Lydia say?" Jaskier asks out of the blue. 

"Oh she warned me not to break your heart. Or maybe threatened me is the correct expression." 

"That sounds like her. She probably meant it too." 

"That woman is something feral." 

"I know. She is awesome. You know, I got the same warning the other day. Just a text though." 

"Lambert?" 

"And Eskel. Both signed it at least. It's nice that we have such fervent guardians." 

"Hmmmm." Geralt suddenly tenses up; the last word tickles something in his mind; and then he remembers. "Oh fuck." 

"What?" 

"I had one of those episodes right before she talked to me. The other you was performing at some huge banquet and my alterego was watching over you, protecting you, for some reason, but the emotions were different. There was a faint longing. Even lust. Nothing very strong but I pushed those down like.... It was a bad thing. Forbidden. "

"Homophobia?" Jaskier supplies. 

"Hmmm. Maybe. Maybe there was something else. It's very confusing, reading his feelings but he certainly cares about you." 

"Maybe we are here so they can finally get together through us? Fuck, are we just puppets in some cosmic game?" Jaskier panics, talking fast and trembling. 

"No, I refuse to believe that." Geralt rises so he can look him in the eye, gaze serious as his fingers caress his jawline. "I have loved you as a friend, I love you as my lover, and it has been my decision, and mine alone to be with you." 

"Oh I feel the same, dear heart. But... What if we are made to believe it was our choice, but it really isn't?" 

"Jaskier stop. You are overthinking. How would these memories could have that much power? They are so... Fleeting. Ephemeral. What we have is strong, solid. We made it so. "

Jaskier's breath stops then evens out; he is simultaneously put at ease and shocked to his core; he has no flowery phrase for what he feels now, no metaphor " And you call ME a poet, love. "He manages to reply and kisses Geralt with all his bursting heart. 

Both of them sleep sound and without any nightmares. 

~*~

The days before Christmas Eve are busy; work, some cleaning, running errands, shopping for food, cooking and baking them (they don't say it out loud but neither of them wishes to spend time doing those after Christmas Eve, when they could be doing each other) ; they are happy to sink into the river of chores. For one, it gives a sense of normalcy in a time when nothing seems normal. Sure, they won't have big family dinners or parties to attend, but still it's Christmas they are preparing for, even better, their first Christmas as a couple and that gives everything an extra sparkle for both of them. 

For two, they genuinely enjoy working together; they make a good team, can divide the tasks easily, fairly and what if they happen to steal kisses or let their hands linger on the other's body a little longer? There is no one to tell them they can't.

Then it's finally the 24th of December. 

"GERALT! HELP!" Jaskier's desperate scream pierces the air. The man invoked peeks out of the bathroom. 

"What's... hang on, I 'm coming." He darts out, attempting to save Jaskier from having half of the Grand Closet' s contents fall on his head. 

Too late. 

An almighty percussion of thumps and clanks are followed by a pained yowl. 

"My head...." Jaskier winces; Geralt wades through the boxes, rolls of wrapping paper and other odds and ends scattered around his boyfriend. He takes his head in his palms immediately, inspecting his injury. 

"Oh my, sunshine" he sighs; the brunette's forehead is decorated with a quickly swelling red contusion. "Quick, let's get an ice pack on it. You'd better not show up for your first meeting for your new role disfigured. How do you feel? Dizziness? Nausea? " Geralt tests his eyes by moving a finger in front of Jaskier's face. His eyeballs follow it together, but the pharmacist is not relieved yet. 

"None of those. Just the pain..." 

"Sit down on the couch." The stern order is immediately followed. 

They move to the living room; Geralt grabs the ice pack from the freezer and fusses over Jaskier some more, getting a towel under the frozen object so it is not too cold either and placing the man's hand on it to press the bump down.

"You stay here, I will handle the tree." He asks gently, caresses his face then pecks him on the nose. 

"Oh come on, that's my favorite part of Christmas!" Jaskier tries to object. 

"No. You did this to yourself. Why couldn't you wait for me?" Jaskier huffs and pouts, his hand still on his forehead. "You can put the hooks on the Christmas candy and supervise me decorating the tree." Geralt offers; he is already on his way to rummage through the wreckage and put everything they don't need back to the closet. He returns with arms full of boxes. 

"Okay, but I want you to put on a show for me. Wear the jumper Elena gave us. And your tight jeans. Oh and tinsel garlands in your hair. I'll put on some music." He fishes out his phone from its pocket and rich, sensual jazz music fills the air with Christmas from the speakers in seconds." What are you waiting for?" and he shoots Geralt the cheekiest of his grins. 

"You are enjoying this way too much. But all right. " He concedes because when could he say no to his sunshine? Certainly not recently. 

"I might as well. I hate putting the hooks on the candy; I prick my fingers a hundred times every year. Oh Roach, pspspsps. Hop up, kitty cat" Roach does not need much encouragement and settles on Jaskier's lap, purring contentedly.

Geralt puts down his cargo, then vanishes in the direction of their rooms. He comes back wearing the requested clothes ; the jumper is bright red with white, cursive font reading 'All I want for Christmas is Him' on the front. He hands an identical one to Jaskier who puts it on. 

"How is your forehead?" 

"Much better. Thanks for taking care of me, my magnificent healer." Jaskier takes a very thorough look at his boyfriend and himself in their new attire. "Oh, we look gorgeous. Aunt Elena always gets the perfect gifts." 

"Yes she does. This was the song..." 

" That played when we put up the lights on the balcony." Jaskier finishes his sentence, wide-eyed. "You remember?" 

Geralt starts unpacking and setting up their little plastic tree on top of a bookcase not looking Jaskier in the eye. 

"How could I not? Your face was lit up with colors, magically beautiful, the warmth of your sinfullly hot body in my hands, your embrace, God your scent, then that cute little kiss on the nose... I was smitten. Just.... confused. Sorry about taking so long." He smiles apologetically and opens the box filled with baubles, garlands and other fixings for the tree. Roach immediately takes interest in the proceedings, leaving her comfortable seat for some scouting. Geralt gives him a plastic bauble to play with. 

"It's alright. I wasn't exactly crystal clear in communicating my intentions either .... But we got each other for Christmas in the end, didn't we?" 

"Mmmh." Geralt agrees then proceeds with fashioning a silvery tinsel crown for himself with a shorter piece of garland , completing the look with two small, red, glittery plastic baubles as earrings. Hips swaying to the music, he glides to a bedazzled Jaskier with a golden garland. He kneels above him, earning an excited gasp, then loosely entwines his neck and shoulders with it; Jaskier flips the tail of it to his back with flair, and they both laugh before the singer grabs his jumper and pulls him down for a searing kiss. It naturally develops into a heated make-out session, which ends with the ice pack landing on Geralt's lap, making him yelp. Jaskier chuckles at the uncharacteristic sound. 

"I guess we should get back to the task at hand,dear heart. Get me the candies and hooks so I can be useful? Although ogling your sexy backside is not a bad pastime either..."

"Give me one more kiss then and I shall do all your bidding." Geralt leans over him, noses almost touching. 

"Ooooh, all of them?" 

"Each and every one. I'm yours, Jaskier. _" It's what's engraved upon my heart, in letters deeply worn"_. 

"Oh how am I supposed to hold back until after dinner when you say things like that?" Jaskier whines and kisses Geralt, hard and dirty. 

"We don't have to...." Geralt rolls his hips as he whispers back after a minute or so. His lover moans but doesn't relent. 

"Then we would not have a Christmas tree until next week and that's just wrong. Plus I think I would very much like to make love to you under it..." 

"Get the carpet burns you were singing about for real?" 

"Have you memorized the full song already? I sang it to you only about five times." 

" I may have recorded it when you performed it to my boss..." Geralt confesses with no regret whatsoever. The song makes him unravel with emotion each and every time, the best way possible. 

"Oh you sneaky sneaky man." Jaskier smirks. " You guessed the meaning quite right, but since then I upgraded my fantasy. We should just make the bed up on the floor. Get the mattress out, all the pillows, blankets, whatever else we may need for the upcoming..." 

" Days?" Geralt winks and Jaskier almost swoons. 

"Yeah. It's not like we are going to be entertaining here anyway..." 

"Then I'd better get back to decorating. You stay put, love." Geralt gets up and collects the Christmas candies (marzipan flavored, of course) and the sachet of metallic "S" - shaped hooks. Jaskier gets to work; he takes a piece of candy, twining one end of the hook around the narrowest point of one of the two wrapping foil's flared ends, cursing lightly whenever he pricks his fingertips, and repeating the process until all of the candies are equipped to go on the tree; well except for the ones that end in his mouth, for quality assurance purposes, solely. He gently directs his boyfriend in the dressing of the tree in the meantime; he certainly has a better vantage point and, frankly, just better sense to place the baubles perfectly. Other than that, Geralt is doing well. He is really putting on a show swaying his hips a bit so Jaskier's mouth practically waters. 

He can't sit still anymore (and his head feels perfectly fine) so he brings the candy to the tree, not able to resist stroking the firm globes now close at hand, wandering down the curve of it, then even lower... 

"Jaskier, fuck.... Don't tempt me so..." 

"Oh you are the one to talk of tempting. You have no idea what your little dancing...." 

His phone's ringing cuts him off. 

His expression darkens the moment he sees the caller. 

"Well isn't it the time of year to feel like a disappointment again." 

"Your dad?" Geralt unconsciously wraps his arms around his shoulders. 

"Yeah." 

"Don't pick up." 

"It's okay. I can handle this." He hopes that he can, at least. 

He retreats to his room. Geralt occupies himself with tidying up the living room, making sure Roach does not destroy the tree. He doesn't overhear much at first, but then Jaskier talks louder, ending up shouting, 

"I love him, he loves me and he is a hundred times more a family to me like the two of you have ever been. Don't bother calling me at New Years. Fuck you. Merry Christmas." 

Jaskier bursts out of the room, flying into his boyfriend's arms. 

"What do you need, love?" he breathes into his shoulder. 

"Just.... Hold me." 

"I can do that." 

He cries bitterly for long minutes on Geralt's shoulder before speaking up,still clinging to him. 

"How dare they... They call twice a year, Aunt Elena and Uncle Zoltan were the ones raising me from age 10, and now that I have found happiness, they still go on with their homophobic bullshit.... They didn't even see our live, of course they didn't, they had some important meeting with someone more important than their actor-musician son who is in love with a man, instead of finding a respectable profession and a nice and well-connected woman to marry. Every fucking year, I answer their call with the hope that maybe, just maybe this year will be different, but no, they try ruining each and every Christmas and they fucking now it's my favorite holiday."

" I won't let them. Want me to talk sense into them? Tell them what they miss out with excluding their insanely talented, kind and spirited son from their sorry lives? " Geralt wipes his tears and kisses the salty trails on his cheeks. They don't embrace again but lace their fingers together, arms straight and relaxed. 

"That's kind of you, but it is a lost cause." he looks down, embarrassed for his parents. "Anyway, I am used to them being the way they are; hell, they didn't even bother to come home for Christmas to visit us when they could. I'll just call aunt and uncle. I was meaning to anyway before we get... Distracted. Will you call your... ? " He looks him straight in the eye. 

Geralt frowns lightly. "No. You, Eskel and Lambert are my family, as far as I'm concerned." Jaskier hears the faint bitterness in his tone but decides not to comment. 

"I understand completely." He says instead, and he really does. 

"I know you do." Geralt kisses him softly on the lips again. "Call Elena. Tell her I miss them both." 

"It would have been fun, having Christmas dinner with them." 

"She would have told so many new stories about you, now that we are together." 

"By 'new' you mean embarrassing, right? Maybe it's better for me that it's just the two of us. Anyway, would you start preparing for dinner?" 

"Sure, sunshine."

The video call is long enough for Geralt to sneak Jaskier's present, wrapped in snowflake-patterned paper, under the tree; although they agreed on not buying each other anything, the object screamed 'Jaskier' through the shop window so loud he just had to. 

Then he goes to the kitchen to warm up the fish soup and preheat the oven for the salmon. The loaves of beigli (poppy seed and walnut rolls)are still in one piece, so he slices them and fills a large plate with the Christmas delicacy baked by his boyfriend (with a bit of help from him). He takes a bite from a walnut one ; it's perfect this year as well, the filling creamy, rich and sweet. 

Jaskier soon emerges from his room. His eyes light up at seeing the platter. 

"Mmmh, give me a slice! Is it good?" 

"Of course it is. You are a beigli expert, sunshine." Geralt praises him while handing him the cakes. 

"Well, it's just having a good recipe and years of practice." He takes a bite and moans. "Oh it is good. I just can't fuck this up." 

"Hmmm. Speaking of.... Should I get the bedding out for later?" Geralt asks, eyebrows wiggling. Jaskier chuckles and manages not to choke. 

"Oh okay. I'll take over in the kitchen... Want to take a shower first?" 

"Definitely. This jumper made me work up a sweat. Do you feel better, love? From talking to your family?" 

"Yes, I do. By the way, aunt and uncle send their love." 

"That's nice of them. Any saucy remarks?" 

"I think I just forgot them." He winks then pats Geralt on the shoulder. "Now, go, take a shower." 

The evening proceeds absolutely smoothly; they are both at peace, the proverbial spirit of Christmas having settled on their soul despite the upsetting phone call earlier. Soon, they are finishing the last morsels of their potato salad and salmon at the festively laid dinner table, meaning there are a nice tablecloth and two candles besides the food cutlery and drinks. They are dressed for the occasion, wearing white shirts and black suit trousers, foregoing the tie and the jacket. Jaskier could not resist putting on a little make up, just eyeliner and mascara to make his eyes pop even more and Geralt was positively distracted throughout dinner, to his satisfaction. 

"So I noticed that little something under the tree..."Jaskier takes a sip from his rosé wine.

"I might have breached our agreement..." Geralt mumbles apologetically. Jaskier reaches out for his hand on top of the table, avoiding the various plates and cutlery. 

"It's okay. I may have got you something as well... Should we move to the tree? Although I think we can leave out the angel's bell bit." 

"All right."

They quickly clear the table first. Excited about the present, Jaskier skips to the tree, careful not to trip on the mattress already laid out, looking almost like a pillow fort - except it's for adult activities. 

"Okay, should we sing first?" 

"I don't think I would make a good duet partner. Certainly not one rivaling Lydia." 

"So that's a no. Okay, I do not want to you to be uncomfortable. I'll just put on the music then." 

A traditional carol starts playing and Jaskier hums along as he carefully takes his present, sets it on the table and starts unwrapping. He has a faint idea what it may be but when he opens the case covered by the paper, his breath hitches and his eyes widen. 

"This is magnificent. I... Ohmy you shouldn't have. It must have cost a fortune. I... Wow. Thank you so much." It is a lute, an antique one with an intricate rose and a wonderful red sheen to the dark wood of the soundboard. 

"I am not an expert, but it had your name written all over it. I hope it sounds as good as it looks. Do you like it then? 

"Like? I love it!" Jaskier hugs him vehemently. 

"If any repairs are needed, I will cover the cost as well." Geralt adds after he is let go. 

"Oh that is so sweet of you. Well my present is not as grand but..." He hands a small silver envelope to Geralt. 

"Thank you, sunshine..." he is very curious so he practically tears the contents out. He reads the little coupon inside and tears up before he hugs the breath out of his boyfriend. 

"Jaskier this is the most perfect.... How did you.... I haven't talked about it in ages", he utters once he lets him go. 

"I kept the fact that you have always dreamed of trying horseback riding in the back of my mind. That's what best friends are for."Jaskier smiles proudly." I've found this riding school online so I have not seen it myself but the website looked promising. And it's not very far either. The coupon is for the beginner's course and it's ten classes. I think."

"Yes,it is, it's written at the bottom. Thank you so much again. " Geralt hugs him again, burying his nose in the crook of his neck. Elated, he ponders again how could he get so lucky while the scent of Jaskier creeps into his mind, then the latter registers his solid warmth and his lust ignites. He kisses the pulse point on his lover's neck before withdrawing. 

"You are most welcome." Jaskier manages to reply and shivers bodily.

The mood shifts; with half-lidded eyes, Geralt observes the top button on Jaskier's shirt. His right hand soon follows his gaze, fingers toying with the hemline and the button deliberately slowly. 

"So... How much do you care for this shirt?"

"Oh not much it's just some old..." Jaskier babbles then is interrupted with a breathy

"Good",

and the hand loses all its gentleness, ripping the garment open with its pair. The clinking of the buttons, landing no-one cares where, is a starting pistol: mouth crashes against mouth, the sleeves of the white shirt tugged down ; the cuff still keeps it on Jaskier so they break the kiss. 

"Take it off." The silver-haired man demands takes a step back to finally explore the hitherto forbidden territory that is his lover's naked upper body, reveling in every detail of it, from how the expanse of his chest hair tapers into a trail to his navel and beyond ; the faint outlines of muscles speaking of strength under a thin padding, from the protruding collarbone to his Adonis belt. 

"Fuck, I can't unbutton these bloody cuffs if you keep devouring me with that gaze...." Jaskier curses, shaking his arms and wrists in frustration.

"Stop flailing. I'll get them."

Geralt kneels at his right side and Jaskier freezes, arms limply hanging, mouth left half-open, his gaze following his lover's movements as he dexterously frees one tiny button, knee-walks to his other side and finishes undressing him with a hard yank to the distressed shirt. The fabric sinks to the floor as the larger man scales the torso of his lover with his tongue from waist to neck, not only defrosting him effectively but making him boil with desire. 

"My turn." Jaskier gasps between needy whimpers, fingertips stroking Geralt's chest as if they could just smudge the shirt off his skin. 

"Rip it off." Geralt rasps into his ear before attacking his earlobe. 

"What? I am flattered by the assumption I'm strong enough for..." 

"Just try." He steps back a little and winks. Jaskier has nothing to lose, so he grabs the fabric and puts all his strength into ripping the obtrusive garment. To his bewilderment, he succeeds; the shirt falls apart and off Geralt. 

His brain switches to feral mode; he pounces on the larger man, tipping themselves over, right into the awaiting fort of pillows, duvets and blankets, the torn fabric still in his hand. He lets it get lost among the pillows. They have become a writhing, kissing, undulating, half-naked mess, the tension of the past weeks (or rather, years) erupting full force. 

"Fuck that was hot. How?" Jaskier asks after licking at least five different shiny trails from Geralt's collarbone to the tip of his right ear, getting trails of pink drawn into his back in exchange. 

"I cut the shirt at the critical points... Weakened the stitches... Researched the internet on how... Was it worth the time?" 

"Best investment of effort. Ever." 

"Trousers. Off. " Geralt demands with a jolt of his hips. 

"Yeah..." Jaskier helps him out of his pants, then he gets rid of his socks. He wills his heated body to switch to a lower gear; they should be savoring their first time not blaze through it, after all. He stands up and turns around, making a dance of it, then pulls down his own trousers langorously, revealing a white see-through pair of boxer shorts on his perfect peach-shaped bottom. Then he slowly turns around to face him, running his long fingers through the thicket of his own chest hair. Geralt gapes throughout the show, his only verbal reaction a weak 

"Fuck me." 

"That is precisely what I intend to do, love." Jaskier smirks and smoulders, running his long musician fingers down the length of his own fully erect penis, which is barely constrained by the flimsy fabric. 

"Come here." Geralt beckons him and sits up as Jaskier kneels down by his head. He puts his mouth to his hot cock post-haste, drenching everything with saliva, Jaskier's most intimate flavors bursting on his tongue. "Oh love you have no idea how long I've been waiting to have your mouth on me. Mmmmmhhhhh." His eyes roll to the back of his head while his fingers entangle in and pull on the white mane of his lover. 

" Take it out for me?" Geralt pleads after he has had enough fun with the clothed dark-pink cock. He could do it himself, technically, but his hands are busy grabbing and kneading Jaskier's ass. 

" Here you are. "Jaskier takes himself in hand and runs the tip along the seams of pliant lips. Geralt lets him, then looks up at his face as he takes his glans into his hot orifice, playing on its surface with fluttering tongue.

Jaskier looks back at him, from under fluttering lashes. They exchange gentle, loving smiles (as much as it's possible with a dick in one's mouth in case of Geralt) then the ashen-haired man swallows almost the entire shaft in one wicked move, earning a high-pitched cry and a wild buckle of hips. 

"Oh fuck, Geralt, warn me before you do such thingggghaaaahhhhhaha good, okay, don't stop just.... Oh fuck...." he stutters and gasps and that's even better to hear than his actual singing, Geralt decides as he gives him the best head of his life, or at least that's his goal. 

" Stop stop stop...."Geralt pops off his cock, immensely satisfied with himself; he knows he would have Jaskier spill on his tongue in moments: obviously neither of them really wanted that yet."Oh darling, oh your mouth is a piece of work. Just.... we have all the time in the world, let us savour these moments." He sits down and they kiss again, shifting back to. langorous lovemaking again, their hands stroking skin firm but in a studiously slow pace. 

" Let me cherish you, love "Jaskier pleads seconds or minutes later, neither knows (nor cares) and Geralt nods, so he takes off his soaked underwear and sits down at Geralt's feet, then proceeds to stroke and caress and kiss every piece of skin, every divot, plane or protrusion of muscle or bone, every patch of body hair, every small or large birthmark, mapping him with all his senses meticulously, but careful not to touch the impatiently straining, leaking shaft. By the time he finishes with kissing every knuckle on his hands, held in his own hands, Geralt has been remade.... He has been remoulded by a master baker who turns simple flour into an exquisite pastry, its essence morphing to become a unique piece of art that is entirely his and his alone. Except now the baker is the only one to eat the product, he chuckles at the flaw of his random metaphor inwardly. He wants nothing else than to be devoured, too. 

"Please please please", he is not above begging at this point. 

"Please what?" 

"Touch my cock. Hand, mouth, whatever you want just please, do something. 

" Since you asked so nicely.... " Jaskier smirks and his head dips down between his legs to give the same treatment to his manhood as he's received previously.

Geralt moans and grunts and moans some more, then Jaskier slowly slides two fingers from his sack down to his perineum, and venturing beyond, not pushing, just in askance.

Geralt wails in answer. "Yes, please, have me Jaskier... fill me with you ..." 

"Very well" his smile is sunshine come alive indeed, radiating unto Geralt's core. He is hovering above his groin; make-up smeared black around his eyes, his lips kissed red and plump, his jaw glistening with wetness and fuck if it isn't the most gorgeous he has ever been, his lover thinks. " I'm going to make you shake apart with pleasure, love " - his promise rings midnight dark but honey sweet.

Having slicked up everything that needed to be slicked with practiced efficiency, his fingers setting out on their noble quest. His mouth engulfs him again, and Geralt grips the sheets. 

" Relax for me a bit, please." Jaskier instructs and he does, breathing deeply and opening his legs wider. His lover's middle finger delves deep, and grows bolder with his strokes as he is welcomed in. He experiments a little, and soon enough, Geralt whimpers a "Yessss, there"; soon, two more digits join the first, and wide-eyed, Jaskier watches where they disappear in his lover who is already pushing back in earnest. "Oh love, you should see the sight you make.... Absolutely gorgeous.... Do you want more or should we proceed?" 

"Fuck me already, Jaskier.... Been waiting for years..." 

"No, I won't", he says sternly, removing his fingers and positioning himself above Geralt so he can feel his heat and look him in the eye., one hand staying on and guiding his cock. "I will, however, make love to you. You deserve nothing less."

"Oh how I love you" Geralt breathes in response, heart overflowing and Jaskier could cry if he weren't about to become one in body with him, so he doesn't, just kisses him, sloppy and careless, while he sinks into his depth. Geralt hugs him close, with four limbs entwined around and they kiss and kiss, watching each other 's expression of wonder and bliss as they do. 

Jaskier has lost the power of speech so he just lifts an eyebrow to ask for permission to finally move. Geralt smiles and lifts both of his in affirmation. Tentatively, Jaskier begins rolling his hips. Geralt is hot and tight and absolutely sublime and oh, he's already answering his thrusts in kind, he realizes, so he increases his tempo. "Oh yessss.... Just like that...." Geralt sighs against his lips and the audacity of him, he clenches down on his cock. 

"How are you so perfect for me?" the brunette wonders out loud and he thrusts in, deep and fast, only to pull out slowly, then repeating it, again and again, creating a syncopated rhythm, coaxing unbelievably salacious moans and groans out of his lover, so he foregoes the dirty kisses; he snakes one arm under his head to hold it and pull at his hair the way he likes it, then dives down, biting and licking his neck and shoulders, whatever his mouth reaches. They keep making love thusly, working up a sweat as their pleasure coils tighter and tighter in their burning cores. 

"Mmmh.... Faster...." Jaskier obliges; he places Geralt's left leg on his shoulder ; he shifts his weight so it's on one arm and his knees, his free hand thus able to stroke his lover's shaft in time with his now frantic thrusts. Geralt's right hand cards through his tresses, then pulls him down for another twisting of tongues. 

Soon enough, Geralt feels his orgasm approaching. His legs tremble and somehow, his vision grows blurry on the edges. He blames his emotions for the powerful and unusual sensations. It seems as if they are on a rocking ship, if everything around them is about to burst into smithereens. Jaskier looks similarly distraught but he's past the point of no return now, pounding into him with all he has as Geralt keens,gasping "Hold me love.... I'm shaking apart.... Tether me to yourself...." 

"I got you,love... Aaaah... so close... Come, fall apart with me. .." 

All it takes is four more thrusts and they reach their peak, shouting into each other's lungs, with the whole apartment vibrating around them. It's pure, quivering bliss, a pinnacle of love consummated, and they pulsate with it as one. 

Yet as their orgasms slowly ebbs, to Geralt's horror, the trembling sensation doesn't stop. His vision falls apart, then blackens and he holds onto Jaskier who is screaming into his chest now, and probably not from pleasure. Then as he thinks it's the end of the world, his brain is suddenly plunged into icy water, numbing, impossibly cold and then a white blast surges through everything. 

And Geralt of Rivia remembers. 

There is no flood of pictures, or a film playing out for his mind's eye. The memories are just there, just the same as the memories of his current life. Their essence seems different notwithstanding, as if their material was woven with foreign threads. 

He sits up, realizing Jaskier is no longer in his embrace. He does not have to search for long ; he is at the end of the mattress, swinging back and forth, curled up onto himself.

"Jaskier...." he calls out and his mind hands him the old /new associations to his name, his bard, his life-long friend.

Geralt gently touches his shoulder. The seemingly innate compulsion to protect him is doubled. 

The shocked man stills, looks at him and whispers" My White Wolf.... I remember everything. "

" So do I, my dearest friend. "

" Geralt, what do we do now? "

" I have absolutely no idea. But we will do it together. " Geralt wipes himself quickly with the remains of his white shirt, takes a blanket and sits next to Jaskier, covering them both.

" Do you still feel.... "

" Yes, I do. "He is quick to reassure Jaskier." I love you, sunshine." Geralt takes Jaskier's hands in his. 

" I love you too, dear heart" Jaskier says and squeezes his hands tightly. 

They hold onto each other, silently, long into the night, until they fall asleep, cuddled together, uncertain about the future, but certain in one thing: their love.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are love ❤️❤️❤️


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